Durin's Daughter
by CharFire
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews are the last in the line of Durin, on a quest to reclaim their home. Linnor Alea Sathren has been raised in Rivendell all her life, locked away, singing and dreaming of the world outside her window. When Thorin and his company pass through, Linnor sees a chance to find a new adventure, and in the process, find the truth about who she is. (Songfic)
1. Chapter 1: To Rivendell

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction on this site, so I really hope you enjoy this first chapter. Please review and tell me what you think. As a general disclaimer, I do not own any of The Hobbit characters or places below.**

 _Loyalty, honor, a willing heart. I can ask no more than that."_

Well, maybe he could have asked for a half-decent burglar.

Thorin Oakenshield and his company were on a quest to reclaim the mighty kingdom of Erebor from Smaug the Terrible, a firedrake from the North. He had destroyed the city of Dale in a rush of fire and had demolished and overtaken Erebor for its mountains of treasured gold. The entire kingdom wandered the Wild for an age, finding work where they could. After Thror, Thorin's grandfather, and King Under the Mountain, was killed by Azog the Defiler at the Battle of Khazad-Dum, and Thrain, Thorin's father, disappeared into the Wild, driven mad by grief, leaving Thorin as King Under the Mountain. Well, future king.

Thorin's brother, Frerin, had traveled with him for years, sometimes going off on his own for a while, but always returning back to share in his travels with his older brother. He had died a few decades ago, killed at the Battle of Moria. The line of Durin finally came down to Thorin, his sister, Dis, and eventually her two sons, his nephews. They were the last to rightfully reclaim their home.

Smaug's continuous reign of terror, as well as the unwelcome villages, drove them West, to the Blue Mountains. They managed to put together some semblance of a life, though it wasn't the same compared to their former glory. They were, as Balin so kindly put it, " _miners, blacksmiths, tinkers, and toymakers."_ Hardly the stuff of legend. Not anymore…

But it had been sixty, long years since the dragon emerged from the mountain, and Thorin had started to yearn greatly for the spacious halls, the golden splendor, heaps of riches, the Arkenstone…He had started to plan, to calculate the risk, what a journey of this size would entail, and who he could trust to bring along. With the surprising help from a wandering wizard, he finally managed to form a company of his friends and his kin, the only ones he could trust:

Balin and Dwalin, brothers who had followed him since the days of Khazad-Dum; Oin, a fine medical healer, though a bit hard of hearing, and his brother Gloin, whose strong distaste for elves nearly matched his own hatred; Dori, Nori, and Ori, a strange little fellow with a slingshot as a weapon, but trustworthy nonetheless; Bifur, whose unfortunate axe incident left him speaking only in ancient Khuzdul, but leaving him a stronger fighter, his cousin Bofur, a steady optimist, Bofur's brother, Bombur, an extremely fat but able bodied dwarf who was constantly hungry; and lastly, Fili and Kili, his nephews. They were the youngest of the company, Fili being only sixty-two with only a small mustache to his name, and Kili, at fifty-seven, had barely grown in to his stubble. But they were his best fighters, and his kin, Durin's heirs. They deserved to be there when they looked upon the halls of their forefathers. The hobbit, not so much.

Thorin had asked Gandalf to find the 14th member of the company, 13 being unlucky and all that. He had expected him to find a fighter, a brave warrior, a skilled thief, someone they could consider an asset on their quest. And he chose…a hobbit from the Shire.

 _Mahal have mercy on his soul._

The hobbit, Bilbo, was clearly not "adventure material", though Gandalf vouched for him upright. And he had surprised all of them, even Thorin, when he had caught up with them on foot about a mile past The Green Dragon Inn, contract signed. And Thorin had decided to let him come along.

Now, pulling himself out of a rough smelly troll sack., he highly regretted that decision. They hadn't been traveling for two weeks and the miserable burden had already nearly gotten them killed, or rather, eaten alive by three, enormous and hungry mountain trolls. If it hadn't been for Gandalf, and the coming of sunrise, their quest would have been ended before it ever began.

Thorin shook his wild mane and walked away from the rest of the group, who were busy redressing and untying each other from the spit the trolls, now turned to stone, had been using to slow roast them. He turned and noticed Gandalf had followed him over to where he stood.

"Where did you go?" Thorin asked hotly, a little embarrassed that they hadn't lasted six hours without the wizard before nearly getting eaten alive.

Gandalf had ridden off in a huff around midday when Thorin called for camp. He had tried to convince Thorin to move on and make for The Hidden Pass, but, foolishly, Thorin had refused. He would not seek aid from those who had betrayed his grandfather, his father, his sister and brother, and especially, him. So, Gandalf had taken off on his horse, returning in time to save them all.

"To look ahead," the wizard replied vaguely, a small smirk upon his wrinkled face that just screamed _I told you so._

"And what brought you back?"

"Looking behind," Gandalf stated. "And in the nick of time, I might add."

"No thanks to your burglar," Thorin glared darkly.

Gandalf turned and faced Thorin, looking him directly in the eyes, a flash of exasperated annoyance clearly visible on the aged wizard's face.

"He had the sense to pray for time," he scolded.

There was a brief awkward pause.

"None of the rest of you thought of that."

Thorin humbled just a bit at this truth. Bilbo had tried to stall the trolls, coming up with an outrageous story of parasites. Infuriating as it was to have been called _infested_ , only Thorin had caught onto the hobbit's plan, and with a swift kick to his nephew, one by one, they all figured out what he was doing and, when it came down to it, it had kept them alive until dawn.

Even so, Thorin stood fast in his opinion that Baggins was a waste of space and a useless asset on this quest. He was going to point this out to Gandalf, but he had moved his attention to the stone trolls.

"They must have come down from the Ettenmoors," he was muttering aloud.

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin caught up.

The company was starting to get anxious to move on, and Thorin could see Balin eyeing him with concern. But Thorin had learned long ago _never_ rush a wizard when he's thinking. Things were uncomfortable enough as it was.

"Oh, not for and age…" Gandalf answered slowly. "Not since a darker power ruled these lands…" he trailed off, lost in thoughts dark and grim.

After a few tense seconds, he moved on, desperate to leave as quickly as they could.

"They could not have moved in daylight," he said aloud, looking at the surrounding woods.

"There must be a cave nearby."

It didn't take long to find the hoard; the smell itself was actually visible through the air, making them retch as they moved closer. After a hasty search of the cave, the dwarves walked away with many newly acquired weapons. Gandalf and Thorin both had fine, elvish made blades, Kili had picked up a stunning bow and a quiver of arrows, Fili had new daggers and throwing stars, and even Bilbo had found a tiny blade.

All of a sudden, a loud crash echoed through the woods, and another, and another. It sounded like something very big was heading towards them…and fast.

"Something's coming!" Thorin yelled, unsheathing his new sword.

Everyone jumped into action; swords were drawn, axes raised, daggers pulled, arrows knocked, all aiming at the underbrush…waiting. The crashing got louder and louder and louder and then….

Eight tan rabbits burst through pulling a small wooden sled, upon which sat the strangest man Thorin ever laid eyes upon. He was short, with long grey hair similar to Gandalf's, though his was cut and ratty. He was clothed in an assortment of brown, tan, dark green and mossy rags and cloths, smeared with stains of every imaginable kind. Was that a… _bird_ chirping from his hat?

The new stranger looked panic and was yelling unintelligibly, something about murder. They stood in stunned silence, unsure what to make of this forest dweller when Gandalf sighed in relief.

"Radagast!"

 _Never will I understand the minds of wizards._ Thorin thought wryly. The two wizards had only spoken together for a few minutes when a low, bloodthirsty howl had ripped through the air and they found themselves being hunted by a pack of Orcs and Wargs. Kili had managed to kill a scout but the pack wasn't far behind. The brown-clad wizard had offered to draw them away on his rabbit-sled, and Gandalf had agreed, telling them to run. The ruse had worked only for a minute, but now the pack was closing in. Gandalf shouted to follow him, but that only seemed to put them in even more peril.

They were all exposed in the open field, with nowhere to run, and Kili only had so many arrows. They company was slowly being cornered to an outcrop of rocks, the vile creatures leering at them as they drew closer.

"Over here!" Gandalf called.

Thorin whirled around and saw that Gandalf stood behind a boulder a little ways in the field. He ran towards him, calling the others. When he got over to where the grey wizard stood, he saw that there was a large opening in the ground, leading to some sort of passage below the surface. Dori, Nori, and Ori dove past him, followed soon by Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bilbo, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur, Fili, and Kili. Thorin slid in after his nephews, and Gandalf followed.

They waited and listened to the harsh growls and snarls above them. Then, a loud horn sounded, followed by galloping hooves. It thunderous noise circled above them, mixed with the screeches of Orcs and the _twang_ of bows.

At long last, the noises faded away and they were left in silence. It hung there for a minute, and no one dared to speak. Finally, they relaxed, when it became apparent that the Orcs had gone and were not about to attack from above. Dwalin was the first to move. He headed further back into the opening, when actually turned into a tunnel.

"I can't see where the pathway leads!" Dwalin called back. "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it of course!" Bofur yelled, heading down after him, the rest of the company following suit.

"Gandalf…" Thorin grumbled, a suspicion of where this pathway lead to forming in his mind.

Gandalf turned and gave Thorin a stern, knowing look.

"If you have anther plan to decipher the map than I will be more than glad to hear it. But until then, I suggest we seek aid from those who can actually help us _now_."

Gandalf turned as walked after the others, and after a brief pause, Thorin swore and made haste after his friends.

The path twisted and turned, getting wider and then narrower, and still they followed it. Finally, they came out onto a ledge. Below them, an enormous waterfall rushed past, creating a misty, serene glow. The company stood in awe at the scene. Across the gap was a large, glorious city. It was made out of white stone, with green tendrils climbing over the walls and towers, which where trimmed in red and gold.

"The city of Imladris." Gandalf explained. "Though the commonfolk seem to know it by another name."

Rivendell.


	2. Chapter 2: In The Walls of Imladris

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Hobbit characters or songs used in this chapter and story. The song I reference below is Something Better from Muppet Treasure Island. I am going to be adding in a lot of popular songs as a part of my character, and I do not own any of them. If you do not like characters who sing, I apologize. Reviews are appreciated.**

The elven city of Imladris was a city of white stone, a city of gold. The towers and walls, underneath the light strands of vine and flower, were circled in white, colored in gold, and topped with a deep red, matching the sunrise and sunset when the light shone through the misty spray of the waterfall. Imladris was a city of laughter and song. Lord Elrond had justly ruled the city for well over a century, and the elves in his council were happy, joyous and at peace. Imladris, the beautiful city of elves, was heaven on Middle-Earth, and everyone was blissful and free.

A day or two before the dwarves arrive in Rivendell

Standing out on her balcony, overlooking the courtyard fountain, Linnor sighed sadly. _Everyone but me s_ he thought. She turned and glided back into her room. _Cell is more like it_ she frowned again. It was a bit of an exaggeration, she would admit.

Her bedroom was the size of the courtyard, and draped in gold, silver, and white. Her bed was large enough for six and the gold canopy reached all the way to the ceiling. There was a couch and sitting area on a lower platform, a large exquisite closet full of fine, light gowns and garments, an elegant bathroom half the size of her own room, and, her favorite feature, a library. Shelves and shelves of books: history, adventure, of far off places, places in the distant corners of Middle-Earth, and people of great importance, all things she had read over and over and come to love and yearn for.

But then again, that was all she could do: yearn for it. Linnor was otherwise trapped in her room, trapped in the walls of Imladris. That much remained true. Except she didn't even know why. Linnor had lived her whole life here, raised in Lord Elrond's court, though she was not elvish. Linnor was human. Her parents had died shortly after her birth. From that time, Rivendell was all she had known, the people here were her family, thus the elvish name.

But in all those decades, Linnor had barely ever stepped outside her room, barely exploring the glorious city, her home. She had never even been in the beautiful courtyard overlooked. And there was always someone watching her, as if she were a child they were afraid would run off (though given her situation and growing desire to see the world, that was not entirely false). But still, Linnor didn't appreciate the guard detail always outside her door, following her everywhere she went, never leaving her alone, but at the same time, keeping her isolated from the city. With the exception of an occasional visitor, sometimes Lord Elrond himself came to ask how she faired, but most of the time...it felt like she was being hidden. Like she, the only human in the city of elven-kind, she was a secret no one was supposed to know about. But every time she asked, she was brushed aside.

A light knock on the door broke into her thoughts.

"Enter."

A tall, graceful woman swept in. She had long black hairthat reached her waist, pulled back slightly to reveal her pointed ears. She wore a long, silver dress, with green and gold trim. She was slim, elegant and regal, a little imposing to Linnor, whose human figure left her a good two feet shorter than the elves in Rivendell, and her hair was a frizzy chestnut, not sleek black.

"Faolan!" Linnor greeted her friend, pushing her gloomy thoughts away.

Faolan was truely her only visitor, and her only friend, and they were very close. Faolan was the only person she really trusted and cared about, and she knew the She-Elf felt the same way.

"Reading again?" Faolan chuckled, gesturing to the books Linnor had absentmindly pulled from the shelves.

"Well, what else is there to do?" Linnor moaned.

It was true that she had already read those books a number of times. Not only because she was bored out of her mind every hour of every day, but becasue she never got it tired of the people, the places, the adventures.

"Sing." Faolan said simply, referring to the translation of Linnor's name.

"Ha ha, very funny. I do not sing and you know that, Faolan."

"Still," Faolan continued, making her way over to the couch to sit. "You are in the most beautiful city in Middle-Earth. Why should you be bored when everything you could wish for is right here."

"Maybe, but I never get to see it!" Linnor groaned.

Faolan was comfortable with her life here, and she got to move and see the world whenever she wished. She just didn't understand. Linnor moved closer to her friend, desperate to get through to her.

"I wake up each day, and I wonder...what for? Nothing new ever happens in this room, Faolan. No matter what you say, that everything is right here, it seems to me there must be something more."

"Something more?" Faolan looked at her in confusion.

"Yes, something more. More than the walls of Imladris, and walking this old floor. If I had my pick of wishes, I'd wish me out that door!" Linnor gestured to her bedroom door, getting up and moving as she continued.

"And you know why? Because I'm hungry for adventure! Adventure out in the world, a world I want to see thanks to these books. I am fed up with this grind. I swear, if i don't get some excitement soon, I'm going to lose my mind! Please do not misunderstand me, I love Imladris and my life here. But it's not the life that I want. I want a life that's filled with thrills and wild and free! Don't you understand that there has got to be something better than...than this for me."

"Linnor, what are you saying? You are in a beautiful place, and yet you talk of leaving? I do not understand." Faolan stood up and moved towards her, now greatly concerned.

"I'm sorry, Faolan. I love my home, but how can I be satisfied when I see these pictures," Linnor motioned at her library, "and know that there is a whole world out there I haven't yet seen? Then I look around here and I want to cry. It just...feels...like the world is passing me by. And...I just can't help but wonder, am I doomed to want to fly. Always dreaming, never going anywhere? Is it a curse I'm under to stay here until I die?" Linnor threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Well..." Faolan looked unsure. "Where would you rather be?"

A smile brightened Linnor's face at the thought.

"I could be an explorer, riding off to distant lands, like the Ettenmoors or the Shire or the lost kingdom of Erebor. Going anywhere would be quite better than spending every afternoon just getting quiet and sad. Oh Faolan, my future looks like nothing that I want to be. That's why I know that there's got to be something better than this," she gestured around her again, "for me."  
"I can see myself out on a quest." Linnor started to walk around the room, envisioning it in her mind." Finding things that are weird and wild and crazy! To find new people and cities and find a place where I could stay, just for a little while."

"But what about Orcs? And Wargs? And all the other dark, dangerous creatures?" Faolan pointed out.

"Let danger call my name! And when it does, I won't hide!" Linnor shouted, jumping onto her bed. " I will put my courage to the test..." She trailed off. " If I ever get to try." Linnor sat down upon her bed, dejected.

Faolan came over and sat beside her, putting a gentle arm around her.

"Those are...interesting wishes, Linnor, but that is all they are. Wishes. You must understand that if you are ever to be happy. I must go now, but I will try to visit again soon." She got up and made her way to the door. Before she left, she turned one last time.

"I mean it about the singing. Just give it a try."

And Linnor was alone again. She sighed, and walked to her balcony. The sun was just setting over the mountain ridge, creating a reddish-golden glow. Singing...

Linnor gazed at the beautiful sight before her, so close, yet just out of her reach. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and gave it a shot.

 _There's got to be something better than this_  
 _I know that there's so much out there to see_  
 _And I know this life I'm leading can't be my destiny_  
 _There's got to be something better_  
 _Something better_  
 _There's got to be something better than this for me._

Linnor opened her eyes to gaze longingly at the horizon before turning away. 

_There's got to be something waiting out there for me._


	3. Chapter 3: Memories

**A/N: I know I'm updating kind of quickly. I prewrote a lot of chapters and I want to update enough to give you guys something to read while I work on the rest. Reviews are ever welcome. I do not own any Hobbit characters or phrases or anything in Middle Earth. Okay, go ahead and read.**

Back in present time

Thorin watched his company make their way down the cliffside. He and Gandalf had maneuvered the slick, rocky terrain much faster than the others, so they were waiting at the bottom of the path. As soon as the company was set, they were to swiftly continue their trek to Rivendell, so, frankly, Thorin wasn't in too much of a hurry to move on.

His eyes turned and followed his nephews, the youngest of the 13 dwarves, who were about halfway down the cliff. Thorin watched the young princes closely. Fili, the elder, was careful in climbing and finding footholds and did so with a sense of proud regality, much like Thorin himself. As the heir to Erebor, Fili was the more serious and level-headed of the two brothers, and he took his responsibilities without complaint. Though that didn't stop him from fooling around with his dark haired double.

Thorin turned his attention to his youngest heir, who was climbing much more recklessly than Fili, who in turn had to pull him back from falling over the edge more than once. Kili. Thorin's heart softened at the thought of him, though his outward appearance showed no sign of change. Kili reminded him so much of Frerin, his own little brother, in many ways. His dark, tangled hair he refused to braid himself, his laughing, carefree demeanor, his beard. Or rather, his lack of one. Most dwarves his age would have plenty of facial hair by now, but Kili had only just begun to stubble. Frerin had been the same.

Looking at his nephews, Fili reaching to pull Kili over a ledge, Kili shouting a crude comment, which Fili returned, Throin felt his brother alive again, there in Kili, as he felt much of himself in Fili. His nephews were his hold, as he was theirs, which was why he had agreed for them to accompany him to The Lonely Mountain. This quest was their birthright as much as it was his. It was the birthright to all in the line of Durin.

Thorin pulled his mind back and noted that the company had finally made it down. Fili and Kili were at the back with the hobbit, who, Thorin noticed, was slightly winded. Thorin gave Gandalf a look, and the wizard started down the path to Rivendell.

"Come along! We haven't got all day."

The others filed past him wearily, a few sharing Thorin's reluctance to go anywhere near the Elven city much less seek council there. Gloin especially carried a deep dislike for elves, a trait he certainly passed on to his young son, Gimli.

"Fili. Kili."

The dwarves, chuckling at a private joke, pushed the slow-footed hobbit in front of them as they followed. Thorin turned and led them after the rest. He heard Fili's low, mischievous tone mutter something quietly and Kili gave a sharp, barking laugh, and with a pang, Thorin was once again reminded of Frerin and himself. His nephews seemed like living memories, of youth and innocence and bravery, much like Thorin and his brother had been at that age.

Thus, Thorin's mind was heaby and preoccupied with memories of his childhood and his past as they entered the airy circle of Rivendell. The quiet was unsettling. Dwarves are not calm, peaceful people by nature. The sound of loud, rambunctious drinking and singing and feasts, the clash of swords and axes during training sessions, the rush of water and fire and the clang of hammers in the forges and blacksmiths shops followed them were sounds of home and comfort to them. Even as they traveled, it was seldom quiet, mainly because of Fili and Kili. The calm and peace now was unnatural to Thorin, and the whole company muttered darkly. Dwalin especially gave the whole place a mistrustful glare.

A tall, dark-haired elf in purple and gold robes hurried swiftly down the front steps.

"Mithrandir!" he called.

"Ah!" Gandalf smiled. "Lindir!"

The two spoke a few words of greeting in Elvish.

"I must speak with your Lord Elrond." Gandalf announced.

Throin stared at the elf servant, who seemed rather nervous.

"My Lord Elrond is not here."

"Well, where is he?"

A loud, resounding horn bellowed from behind them, along with the low, advancing drum of hooves. Seconds later, a whole guard carrying flags riding upon white stallions galloped up the path full speed. Thorin yelled above the pounding hooves, drawing his swords. The company drew together in a tight circle, pulling out weapons and glaring up at the circling horses. Thorin noticed that Bilbo had been shoved to the center, and Fili was standing close to Kili in a protective stance. After what seemed like an age, the elf guards parted ways to make way for a tall, regal elf in silver and gold armor and long dark hair. He dismounted from his horse and strode over to Gandalf.

"Mithrandir!" he chuckled.

"Lord Elrond." Gandalf tipped his head in a modest bow.

Once more, he and Gandalf diverged into a flow of Elvish. Soon, though, Thorin heard quite plainly,

"Strange to see orcs so close to our borders."

"Ah." Gandalf shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I believe that would be our fault."

Thorin broke from the circle and strode forward, glaring defiantly at the elf. Lord Elrond looked down and smiled knowingly, which only further irritated him.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. I knew your grandfather when he ruled under the mountain."

"Funny." Thorin replied dryly. "He made no mention of you."

Chuckles broke out harshly from behind him, and he knew his kin were listening closely to their conversation. Elrond's eyes narrowed and Gandalf sighed in annoyance. After a brief pause, Elrond spoke again, this time in Elvish.

"What does he say?" growled Gloin. "Does he offer us insult?!"

"No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food!" Gandalf snapped, the smallest hint of a smile visible on his wrinkled face.

Thorin turned and motioned his company into a huddle. They conversed in low murmurs about the situation. On one hand, they were rather hungry, and a dwarf never turns down a meal. This argument was passionately pressed by both Bilbo and Bombur. On the other hand, they would be entering into the home of the Elf Lord, into the midst of their kind, of which no one, save the hobbit, was happy. In the end, hunger and fatigue won out.

"Very well then." Gloin ammended. "Lead on."

As Elrond and his guard lead the way up the steps into their fair city, Thorin happened to glance up. They were passing a large open courtyard with a fountain at the base of a large, extravagant building and tower. A flash of a curtain caught his eye, and for a second he froze. Then he shook his head. No..there was no way. Frerin was dead. But for one brief moment, he could have sworn he had seen his face staring out of the tower window...


	4. Chapter 4: The Call

**A/N: Hi again! The song you will hear/read below is The Call by Regina Spektor, and I thought it really fit in here. I don't own it, or any Hobbit characters, places, etc. Linnor is my own creation as well as Faolan. Reviews are always appreciated. Read on!**

"So, Thorin Oakenshield," Elrond began, leaning back in his chair, "what brings you and your, uh, company to Imladris?"

Thorin stared defiantly at the elf lord, his face impassive. He and Gandalf had been seated at Lord Elrond's high table to eat and discuss matters while the rest of the company sat together at lower tables in the center of the plaza. When they had first walked in, a parade of elves had greeted them on Elrond's command, bathing and dressing them (or trying to anyway: dwarves can be rather brash and stubborn) making them comfortable and presentable for dinner. With each elf he saw, Thorin scanned their face, but not one even remotely resembled the face in the tower window, not one resembled Frerin. He knew he didn't imagine it. But if that was the case, then where were they?

He and his company were then escorted to eat, though what they ate was hardly to be considered food. Leaves and greens and the sort of food for for rabbits and livestock, not kings and warriors. This, Thorin's feelings were not particularly warm towards his host. The dinner had been extremely quiet and peaceful, altogether dull, but Thorin had kept on high alert, tense in the presence of so many who had betrayed his family.

"My business is my own." he growled in reply.

Elrond's gold eyes narrowed angrily and Gandalf have an awkward cough.

"Lord Elrond, our purposes are merely academic. We have come across a map, of great sentimental value to Thorin and his kin no less, and we cannot read it. We thought that you, as skilled and ordered as you are, would be able to help us. "

Elrond seemed pleased at Gandalf's explanation, though whether he fully believed the crock, Thorin did not know.

"Yes, well... I suppose-"

At that moment, a tall, imposing She-Elf strode into the plaza. Thorin only noticed because when she did, the elves playing the soft music halted and stared at her, as if they couldn't believe their eyes. A second passed, then the music resumed. The elf walked quickly to the high table, where Elrond waited, his eyes widened in shock.

"Faolan, my dear, I thought you were-" he began.

"My Lord." She said quietly, her voice panting as f she had just been running.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but she wants to speak with you. About coming down."

Thorin had absolutely no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, Elrond seemed alarmed by it. He turned back to the table.

"If you will excuse me."

And with that, he followed the She-Elf out of the plaza, both of them nearly running. Thorin looked back at Gandalf, suspicious.

"What was that about? Gandalf?"

But Gandalf did not reply. He remained looking after Elrond and Faolan, lost in deep thought.

"Gandalf!"

The old wizard blinked and looked at the dwarf King, slightly bemused by his frustrated expression.

"Calm yourself, Thorin. It is nothing to be suspicious of. Then again, it might be. If it is what I think it is, and what it is still is, than I assure you it poses no physical threat. However, emotional, mental, and status and respectability is another matter for you to decide. But all in good time. Ah, Elrond!" Gandalf called to the returning party, leaving Thorin in a lost state of anger and confusion.

Elrond smiled at them. He was excited about something, Thorin noticed, but also nervous. Thorin also noticed Faolan standing by the entryway, looking slightly ecstatic. Something was about to happen, that much was clear. Elrond made a large gesture and the music stopped. Everyone, dwarves and elves, turned and looked at him, interested at this sudden interruption.

"My friends, I have a special treat. Lady Linnor has decided to grace us with her presence this evening."

A gasp asp went through the elven folk, though Thorin and his company remained stoic. Whoever this Linnor girl was was certainly important to enhance this much of a reaction by her own people.

"Linnor, if you please." Elrond called.

Throin in turned to watch a young girl, no more than twenty, walk slowly into the open yard, and his breath fell away. It was the girl in the tower. This was the elf he had been looking for, the one who so closely resembled his little brother Frerin. But she wasn't an elf. Thorin studied her. She was short, only a foot or so taller than himself. She clearly had elvish blood, but she was not elvish. She looked...human. For the first time in his life, Thorin's jaw dropped.

Gasps and exclamations told him that others were just as surprised and impressed as he was. FiLi and Kili were even gogling openly at this fair beauty. She looked innocent and sweet, and her wide eyes took in everything with wonder, as if she had never seen outside her door before.

"Linnor!" Elrond called, his eyes darting from her to Thorin to Gandalf.

The he girl walked forward hesitantly to the high table.

"Yes, my Lord?"

Her ear voice was quiet and low, but there was a hint of excitement in it as well.

"Would you ease bless us all with a sample of your voice? I'm sure we would all love to hear you sing. Anything you'd like, dear. Go on, don't be shy."

She he was going to sing? This should be interesting. The girl, Linnor, he reminded himself, walked to the center of the plaza. There was a pause of silence as she steeled herself. Then

"It started out as a feeling  
Which then grew into a hope.  
Which then turned into a quiet thought  
Which then turned into a quiet word."

Her voice was light and airy, with a musical lilt to it. It was singing, but at the same time, not. Like she was just having a conversation with the wind, which carried he words away from her and swirled them untol they were a song.

" And then that word grew louder and louder  
Till it was a battle cry  
I'll come back when you call me  
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing  
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before  
All you can do is try to know who your friends areas you head off to the war.

Pick a star on the dark horizon and  
Follow the light  
You'll come back, when it's over  
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back, when it's over  
No need to say goodbye

For some odd reason, this song of leaving and returning fit nicely with Thorin and the quest he was embarking on. It reminded him off going off on adventures with Frerin, and knowing that they would always come back together. He glanced over at his kin. They were all transfixed as well, though undoubtably for different reasons. Kili had his eyes glued to her, but Fili was watching Kili with a mix of amusement and determination.

"Now we're back to the beginning  
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet  
But just because they can't feel it too  
Doesn't mean that you have to forget.

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger  
Till they're before your eyes  
You'll come back when they call you  
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back when they call you  
No need to say goodbye."

Her voice gently faded as the song ended. No one spoke or moved for a moment. Then Elrond stood up, a large, proud smile spread over his face. He clapped politely and others followed suit, Linnor giving a small curtsy before being escorted away by the She-Elf. She was gone, gone. No, he needed to talk to her. It was important.

Thorin swerved back to face his table, and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by Elrond himself.

"Well, that was lovely, a real treat. She never does that for guests, so feel honored, Thorin Oakenshield. Now, you mentioned a map?"


	5. Chapter 5: Councils

**A/N: So I know that these updates are rather quick, but I want to post up to some of the real action before pausing so that what you guys read is at least interesting. It's a rather slow build, but I promise its worth it in the end! So please read and review! I do not own anything except Linnor and Faolan. The rest is Tolkien's own creation.**

"I did it, Faolan! I SANG! And in front of you and Lord Elrond and the other elves and, and DWARVES! Dwarves, Faolan! I can't believe it! I cannot believe any of this!"

The tall She-Elf laughed and took Linnor by the shoulders in an effort to calm her down. Linnor stopped and stared at her friend , eyes wide in amazement. They sat down on her bed.

"Dwarves, Faolan."

"I do not see what is so awing about those dwarves." Faolan questioned, a hint of distaste evident in her voice.

Linnor giggled at her friend's jealousy.

"They're different, my friend! I've spent my whole life amongst elves, hearing the same stories, seeing the same sights out my window. Today was the first day I can ever remember that Lord Elrond let me come down from this tower. I saw them arrive, Faolan. Dwarves, probably from the Blue Mountains, or maybe the Iron Hills. They have seen and fought and lived in this world. More than I have."

Linnor or slowed her rant, steeling herself for what she was about to say next. A plan had begun to form in her mind and for the very first time in her life, she was going to take control of her life. She looked straight into Faolan's honey eyes.

"I wish to meet them."

"Moon runes?"

Thorin stood in Elrond's private council chambers along with Gandalf, Balin, and Bilbo, for whatever reason. The rest of the company had been shown to a large, open courtyard to rest and talk and eat real food.

Reluctantly, against his better judgement and Balin's warnings, Thorin had taken out his map from his inner pocket and handed it tensely over to the Elven King. Elrond had studied it carefully for a few moments, now and then casting Gandalf a suspicious glance, which the wizard either did not see or chose to ignore in the pretense of innocent academic interest.

Elrond walked out to a platform over the waterfall and laid the map on a small stone table, letting the light of the full moon shine upon it. Bright blue letters had suddenly appeared by the image of the mountain, making the little hobbit gasp.

"These runes only appear by the light of the same moon and season by which they were written. It seems fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield."

"In more ways than one." Gandalf replied, earning a glare from Elrond.

After Elrond translated the runes, Thorin, Bilbo and Balin returned to the rest of the company to relay the new information, leaving Gandalf alone with Elrond.

"Gandalf-" he began, but the wizard cut him off.

"He has seen her, Elrond. He is curious. He sees him in her, and keeping him quiet now will only enrage him. Linnor is Frerin's daughter, Thorin's niece! Even she-"

"She knows nothing. As far as she knows, she is a human who was left in my care at birth. The truth would endanger her, you know that. She is like a daughter to me. And Thorin is curious, yes, but also scared. Who knows what his reaction would be? No, Gandalf."

"I understand that, my friend." Gandalf sighed. "But she IS Thorin's kin. Keeping her locked up has only made her yearn for the outside world more. You must let her go. Let her come with us."

"I can't, Mithrandir. Not yet. No one knows, other than you, who she is. Thorin is already too close, as are his kin. It was a mistake letting her sing tonight. He cannot know, nor anyone else."

"But she is his niece! She's Durin's blood! She has a right to go on this quest!" Gandalf cried.

Elrond stopped his his pacing and looked at Gandalf harshly.

"Is this the real reason you journeyed to Imladris? To take her from the safety of her home, to explode the truth and send her on a pointless and fatal quest?!"

Gandalf was silent.

"I will not do it. I can't. The truth would break her, and Thorin... I've already said that he is scared. I don't know his definite reaction, and I don't want to. He could take her, or he could dismiss her as trash and a shame. I must keep her safe at all costs, from the world and from that, even if it means lying, locking her up and her unhappiness. She will be safe, and she will remain here. Promise you will not breath a word?"

"Promise?" Gandalf sighed. "Promise to not give Linnor down true family, to bring a long lost piece back to Thorin, and to keeping a new chapter hidden from existence?"

Silence.

"I promise."


	6. Chapter 6: Surprise Meeting

**A/N: Another update just for you! This is quicker than I really want but I can't resist posting when a chapter comes together! It's just too tempting! The song lyrics are When Will My Life Begin from Tangled. Disclaimer: I own none of the Hobbit characters and etc.**

During Elrond's council with Thorin

Thorin's company rested comfortably by the small bonfire in the courtyard, happily roasting sausages and blowing smoke rings. Though they had talked and laughed racously early in the evening, the mood was winding down and they were all falling into a doze. Thorin, Balin, Gandalf, and Bilbo had gone up to a meeting with Elrond, leaving them to their own amusements.

"What fun."muttered Kili, blowing a smoke ring, quietly enough so that only his brother could hear.

Fili huffed and nudged his little brother in the ribs, making him grunt. Kili had never had much patience. He always wanted action, adventure, something new. Sitting and waiting peacefully were not one of his virtues.

"Try to get some sleep, Kee. Relax, listen to nature. On the other hand,"he added, a small smirk on his face, "Thorin will be ever so pleased that one of his nephews, a Prince, fell asleep on his feet on the quest to regain their homeland, a quest he simply begged to come on, and-"

"Alright, alright already, Mr. High and Mighty." Kili grumbled, leaning back so that he was against FiLi and looking up at the stars and the high balcony above.

Fili chuckled and ruffled Kili's tangled locks playfully.

"G'night, brother."

"Night, Fee."

Kili stared up at the dark balcony above him, letting his thoughts run through his mind and his eyes go out of focus slightly. Slowly, they began to drift shut and his breathing became soft and steady and he relaxed into his brother's shoulder. He was nearly asleep when he saw it. For a moment he thought it was just his wild imagination, seeing things in the dark. Then, he saw it again. He jolted foreward, wide awake now, eyes glued to the balcony in disbelief.

"Kili?"

Bofur's voice whispered nearby. He saw the young lad bolt from his slumber and thought it was a nightmare. But the dwarf showed no sign that he had heard him.

Kili remained starig at the balcon, waiting...there! Someone was up there, on the ledge.

"Kili, what's going on? Kili? Kili!"

Kili was still too stunned and confused to reply, and already Bofur's shouts awoke the others, and in alarm, they began to draw their weapons.

"Kili?" Fili whispered from behind him, his hand tightly gripping one of his throwing knives. "What is it? What?"

Kili pointed upwards.

"There, someone on the balcony."

The figure was now standing at the very edge. The whole company looked up in confusion.

"Why, it's a lass!" Gloin exclaimed softly.

"What's she doing?" Ori wondered, a small tremble in his voice.

They watched he's the shadow closely. It was indeed a young girl, no older than twent in looks, and she looked behind her, as if deciding whether or not to do what she was about to. Then, quite softly so that the dwarves had to strain to hear, and Oin couldn't hear at all, not even with his trumpet, she began to sing.

 _"Look at the world, so close and I'm halfway to it.  
Look at it all, so big, do I even dare?" _

Kili suddenly tore his gaze down, and looked in surprise at the others, who all wore a similar look to his. Though they had heard her only once, it was clear to them all that this was the girl who had sung at dinner.

 _"Look at me, here at last, I just have to do it.  
"Should I-no. Here I go. **"  
**_  
There was a pause, then the girl lept from the edge. She practically flew through the air, dropping about 30 feet before catching an outstretched tree limb.

"Oh my." Oin exhaled.

Kili nodded. This girl was insane! Not even an elf would risk that jump. The girl clambered nimbly down the tree, her back facing the group of astonished dwarves, all too stunned to speak. The girl froze on the ground for a minute. Then she started to laugh.

 _"Just smell the grass, the dirt, the way I dreamed they be.  
Just smell that autumn breeze, the way it's calling me.  
For like the first time ever, I'm completely free."_

She started to run.

 _"I could go running, and racing,  
and dancing, and chasing,  
and leaping and bounding, hair flying, heart pounding, and-"_

She he ran to the edge of the yard and turned, and that's when she saw them all watching her. She slowly walked back to the fire. Kili noticed that she didn't look embarrassed or scared, only excited and...relieved?

She he came up to the edge of the light, looking at each dwarf in turn as if she couldn't believe her eyes. The dwarves, in turn, looked at her, not sure what to really make of any of it. There was a long, awkward pause before anyone spoke.

"Um, well, uh, hi there." Bofur stepped foreward.

"I'm Bofur, uh, let's see, there's Bifur, my cousin, an' Bombur, my brother, and uh, Oin and Gloin, um, Dori, Nori, and Ori, Dwalin, and Fili and Kili."

The dwarves waves feebly as their names were called. The girl just grinned.

"Hello. My name is Linnor. I've been wanting to meet you."


	7. Chapter 7: Company of Thorin Oakenshield

**A/N: And so it really begins! I appreciate the reviews so far, and I can't wait to know your opinions as this story continues. So here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hobbit characters, places, etc. Linnor and Faolan, however, are mine.**

Linnor grinned wildly at the dwarves. So far, her plan was going very smoothly.

She had told Faolan that she had wanted to meet the company. As she expected, the elf had become angry with her.

"You have no right to demand such a thing. Lord Elrond had been kind to you. He has housed you, RAISED you, thought you a daughter, let you come down and sing for us, and yet you still press to disobey his orders. Is that how you repay him? Repay ME?"

"Orders? What orders?" Linnor snapped.

Faolan had clammed up, her eyes wide with fury and fear. It was blatantly obvious that she hadn't meant to say that much. She became rather nervous, and Linnor didn't like that her only friend had been keeping secrets from her. She realized that other than being Lord Elrond's maidservant, Linnor knew practically nothing about Faolan. Her resolve for her plan hardened.

"You are NOT to meet the dwarves. You are to stay here." Faolan nodded with grim finality.

Linnor stood up and looked down at the elf still seated. It pained her to do this, but she was not going to let her life be lived for her anymore. She was done with Imladris and ready for something new and exciting. This was something she had to do.

"Fine." Linnor replied coldly. "I will not meet the dwarves. I will not come down from this tower. And while I'm at it, I will not take my meals, or breath, or sing, or read, or live!"

"Linnor, please-"

"Go." Linnor barked sharply. "Leave me."

Faolan stood and, without a second glance, exited her room. That was harder than she had thought. Linnor wiped away a rolling year and took a deep breath. But it needed to be done. Faolan wouldn't dare to check on her for two or three days, and by that time, in one manner or another, Linnor planned to be far far away.

That night, she had gathered all her courage and jumped from her balcony to a tall slender tree, and from there, to the ground. She laughed and ran and felt the earth because for the first time, her life had possibilities.

And then she saw them.

Now, her heart beating erratically, she was standing among the very people she had escaped to meet. Another awkward pause followed her introduction. Her smile fades into embarrassment and uncertainty, and that somehow spurred them into action.

"Oh, uh, well, yes, then-"

"Would you like a sausage? They're really quite good, you know. Just ask Bombur, he-"

"That was some jump, lassie. Some jump indeed. Why I-"

Linnor couldn't help but giggle slightly, and they all stopped again, embarrassed at their sudden, uncharacteristic rambling. Linnor struggled to hold back a grin as she carefully took a seat at the edge of the small fire.

"Sorry,sorry. It's alright, really. I'm sure you have questions for me, as I have tons for you. Why don't you start? It's the least I can do, after startling you so."

This comment aroused some offended grumbles.

"Dwarves are never startled, miss." a red haired dwarf across the fire growled. "We are brave and stone- hearted and unwavering. That is to say," he paused and shifted uncomfortably, " well.. That is... I am not suggesting that we were not...well, that was some jump, lassie."

Linnor blushed.

"Thank you kindly." she nodded. "I guess it was. And I was not questioning the courage of a dwarve's heart, Master Dwarf, only suggesting that I caught you off guard with my antics."

"That you did indeed." a dwarf in an odd fur hat chuckled. "You mind telling us why you did jump then, little Song-Bird?"

Linnor's eyes widened gleefully at the new nickname, making the others chuckle. They had relaxed now, easing into comfortable positions, and laying down their arms.

"Well, to meet you. Or rather, to escape." she began slowly. "I do believe it's a bit of both. I was tired of people telling me what I could or could not do and how to live my life and who I'm supposed to be. I guess I finally mustered up the courage to take control when I saw you arrive. So, thank you for that. Anymore questions?"

"So you've lived here your entire life, and never left? Ever? Not once? Not even to see the trees or waterfalls or the mountains?" a small, baby-faced dwarf wondered.

"Yes. Before tonight, I've never even left that damn tower. But you guys...you've probably seen the world. You've been far over and under and deep within the earth, I'll bet. Where are you from?"

The dwarves exchanged nervous glances.

"The Blue Mountains." the young dark haired dwarf spoke out.

"Kili..." the blond next to him cautioned.

"Relax, Fili, she's just curious. I would be too if I spent the last how ever many odd years stuck in an elvish tower, shut away from the world."

"The Blue Mountains." Linnor whispered. "I've seen them. In my books and maps." she explained to puzzled looks. "My library...I've read all about the mountains, among other things...they're so far away."

Linnor scrunched up her brow, thinking hard and fast.

"You've traveled a long way. You're going somewhere. On an adventure? Where? Where are you going?" she asked, speaking to Kili.

This time, though, he did not answer. His eyes focused behind her and she tensed as someone spoke.

"What right is it of yours to ask the business of dwarves?" a low, rough, scornful voice rumbled.

She stood and turned slowly to face the new arrival. He stood regally and strong, flanked by another dwarf with a white beard and a small halfling. She stood before him in awe, feeling slightly scared, and noticed that he, too, looked shocked at seeing her there.

"Why are you here?" he questioned, eyes narrow.

"She-" Fili started, but Linnor burst out first.

"I wish to join you on your quest."

There was stunned silence. All eyes were on Thorin. The dwarves fully expected him to go into a rage, yelling at her, daring her, threatening her, all for asking to be on a quest where she had no right. They already had a hobbit, they didn't need another burden.

Thorin remained impassive, a war of emotions rising and falling beneath the surface. Then to everyone's surprise, he spoke, calmly and without emotion.

"Well, then. Welcome, Linnor, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."

He paused.

"Now gather your things, all of you. We're leaving."


	8. Chapter 8: On Their Way

**A/N: So it's almost 11:00 and I'm wide awake so I thought updating would be fun. I told you before that a lot of this is prewritten and I'm jumping between two websites so I'm trying to expand my stories. Once again, I do not own The Hobbit and all that pertains to it. The song Linnor sings, however, it On My Way by Phil Collins, a favorite of mine. Anyway, thanks to the reviews so far. I love feedback, so please go ahead. And since it's all set, go ahead and read chapter eight!**

Linnor stopped to get one last look at Rivendell, the only home she had ever known. Who knew if she would ever return, and, if she did, would she even be the same? Surprisingly, she found that she was okay with that.

"I suggest you keep up, Miss-uh..." Thorin called back, pausing for her name.

"Linnor Alea Sathren." she turned, giving him a small smile. "And don't worry about me. I'll be just fine."

And with that, she turned her back on the only place familiar to her in this world and stepped into the Wild.

They had left right at Thorin's words, Linnor having nothing but the clothes on her back, and headed out the gate and up the mountain overlooking the city. The plan was to wait for Gandalf about halfway up, around ten, but that came and passed and Thorin continued on with them in tow. Thorin, it seemed, would wait for no one in his urgency to move on.

To pass the time, Linnor began to hum as she walked. What had started as a silly suggestion was now her favorite hobby. Linnor hummed the tune merrily as they climbed steeply up the mountain path, until, all of a sudden, she burst out in song, making everyone jump.

 _"Tell everybody I'm on my way  
New friends and new places to see  
With blue skies ahead, yes I'm on my way  
And there's no where else I'd rather be"  
_  
Linnor paused, noting that the whole company had come to a halt. They were all looking at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement on their faces. Thorin had a look almost of recognition, and what seemed to be sadness and longing.

"Come on. It will help us walk." he said, resuming the trek.

The company members shrugged and filed past, some chuckling and others shaking their heads in annoyance. Linnor hesitated for a moment.

"Well, don't stop now!" Fili urged, laughing as he passed her with his brother, who turned briefly to wink at her. Linnor took a breath and continued, softly this time.

 _"Tell everybody I'm on my way  
And I'm loving every step I take  
With the sun beating down, yes I'm on my way  
And I can't keep this smile off my face"_

Thorin was right, it DID help her walk faster. She found a steady beat and soon she was passing many of the dwarves, hopping in front of them to keep her rhythm.

" _Cause there's nothing like seeing  
each other again  
No matter what the distance between  
And the stories that we tell will make you smile  
Oh it really lifts my heart"  
_  
Now she was level with Thorin himself, and he looked at her in utter surprise. Inwardly, she laughed. And he had accused HER of being slow?

 _"So tell'em that I'm on my way  
New friends and new places to see  
And to sleep under the stars  
who could ask for more  
With the moon keeping watch over me"_

A few droplets of rain began to fall, spattering on the rocks. Linnor paused again at the edge of a cliff. The road turned sharply into the mountain then, creating a path so narrow, it would have to be single file.

"What, it's just a bit of rain!" Gloin called from further back. "Are you telling me she's scared of rain? She's regretting she's come already!"

Linnor or whirled around to give the loud-mouthed dwarf a stern glare, then, trembling slightly, made her way onto the rock ledge, now slick with rain.  
 _  
"Not the snow not the rain can change my mind  
The sun will come out, wait and see  
And the feeling of the wind in your face  
can lift your heart"  
_  
The rain was coming down harder now, and Linnor was having a hard time keeping the quiver of fear out of her voice, as well as her wet hair out of her eyes.

 _"Oh there's no where I'd rather be  
Cause I'm on my way now  
Well and true  
I'm on my way there.  
I'm on my way now."  
_  
Something large the and soft was placed gently on her head, nearly making her lose her balance.

"Easy, Frer-uh, Linnor." Thorin called over the wind.

Linnor heard the mistake, but she couldn't focus on that right now, nor would she be able to puzzle it if she could. The "thing" had been Bofur's hat, she realized, feeling the soft, heavy fur. The kindly dwarf had passed it up the line so she could use it as protection. Linnor smiled gratefully. She had only known these dwarves for a day, yet they treated her like a true member of the group, like a friend.

"LOOK OUT!" someone yelled.

A huge boulder came hurtling through the dark, smashing to pieces above them and raining down in shards.

"GIANTS! STONE GIANTS!" she heard Bofur's voice on the air and her heart stopped.

A humongous, stone figure came looming out of nowhere and a second one rose from behind their pass. To her horror, they began to brawl roughly. Large chunks of stone began flying everywhere, ripped from their owner and nearly hitting them straight on.

"We're going to die we are absolutely going to die oh my god oh my god oh my god." she prayed.

Suddenly, the rocks underneath her feet began to shake, and further down the line, a huge crack had formed through the mountain. There was a tremendous tremble, and then they started to MOVE.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

"KILI, GRAB MY HAND!"

Linnor watched, her breath caught in her throat, as the two panicked brothers were seperated by the rising mountain.

They were ON a giant!

The fight broke out, and everyone clung to the ledge as it swung back and forth as the Giants battled. Suddenly, an opposing for smashed their giant, knocking its head clean off, sending its body (and them) careening down.

The leg Linnor stood on smashed calmly into the wall, with Thorin and few others behind her. The other leg, which held the rest of the group, swung over them and, with a ton of force, smashed full strength into the side of the mountain.

"NO!"

The yell Thorin emitted was even more terrible than what she had just experienced.

"No!" he yelled again, pushing past her to where the others had been crushed, as if a piece of his very heart had been torn out.

"Kili! Kili!" he screamed, his anguish apparent for his youngest nephew. Then he stopped.

Linnor or hurried to catch up, hardly daring to breath, then laughed at the sight. The company was fine. They had landed, a little bruised and battered, in one large, wet, heavy pile.

Ten end minutes later, after relieves hugs and once-overs and role call, the 13 dwarves, the hobbit, and Linnor piled into a small, clear cave they found further along the trail. Thorin called for only a brief rest, no fires, and for everyone to catch as much sleep as they could before first light.

After a few minutes of quiet chatter, they fell silent. Linnor rested somewhat comfortably midway between the entire group, leaning against the rocky cavern wall.

"Linnor?" Bilbo's small, quiet voice echoed in the small space.

She knew what he was asking. Quietly, but so that everyone heard the soft music, Linnor finished her song.

" _Tell everybody I'm on my way.  
I just can't wait to be there  
With blue skies ahead, yes I'm on my way  
And nothing but good times to share.  
So tell everybody that I'm on my way  
And I just can't wait to be home  
With the sun beating down, yes I'm on my way  
And nothing but good times to show  
I'm on my way."  
_  
Slowly, Linnor's eyes began to droop. Very, very softly, she sang the last line, almost to herself, and it couldn't be more true.

 _"Yes I'm on my way."_


	9. Chapter 9: Family Resemblances

**A/N: I'm going on vacation for the next few days, so I will sadly be unable to update while I'm gone. But here is the next chapter so you have something new to read in that time. I know it's short, but it's what I have, so sorry if ou were hoping for a long one. believe me, that's coming. Once again, I do not own anyone or anything (besides Linnor) from the Hobbit.**

 **I would like to thank Horseyperson224 for her kind reviews so far. They really make me smile! So thank you!**

"She reminds me of you, you know." Fili whispered to his brother in the dark.

It was their turn to take watch while the company slept in the cave, and the two brothers had set up towards the back. Thorin had said no fires, so they had to make do with what little pipeweed they could salvage to keep warm. Linnor had just finished the end of her traveling song and drifted off to sleep, but the sound of her voice still chillingly echoed in the hollow opening. Kili blew a small ring of smoke and looked oddly at his elder brother before glancing over to Linnor's sleeping form.

"Really? She reminds you of me? How?"

Fili thought about that. "I don't know. It's hard to explain, Kee. It's the way her eyes light up when she's happy or excited. How she's so exuberant and excited about every new thing. Her laugh is like you. I see you in her. It's what makes me like her more. Though she does have a much nicer singing voice than you!"

Kili had to stifle a laugh. He had never really noticed his own similarities to their new companion, but his brother certainly had. He paused before sharing his own thoughts.

"She's a bit like you, too, Fee. She's kind, and determined, and gutsy to boot. But not only that." Kili took a breath. "It's like she...I mean, I see us. All of us. Our family. Dis, you, Thorin. It's like I'm looking at our family in her. She is kind and loving and open like our mother, and she is goddamn stubborn like Thorin, that's for sure. She belongs here. She's one of us, for a human girl."

Fili clapped Kili on his shoulder, a small smile spreading across his face. As loud and rambunctious as his brother could be, he really was sweet and thoughtful. He was right, and now that he had pointed it out, Fili could see it all too. Except...

"She's not human."

Kili nearly choked on his pipe. "W-What?"

"Look at her. I mean, maybe, but I don't think so. She's been living with ELVES for her entire life. When have the elves ever extended that kind of curtesy to any Men? There's something special about her or Elrond wouldn't have been keeping her. Maybe she's elvish, or part, at least. But there's more. "

Kili took a good hard look at the young girl sleeping halfway across the cavern floor. For the first time, he noticed her flawless skin, her agelesness that she seemed to carry weightlessly, her short body stature, similar to...

"A dwarf."

Fili looked at Kili in surprise. Linnor, a dwarf? Kili saw the confusion in the blond dwarf's eyes. Carefully checking the rest of the company was still asleep, he leaned in closer.

"I don't know for sure. After all, we are just guessing, right? But her body stature is short. We all notice how young she looks, but have we actually asked her her age? For all we know, she could be human, she could not be. She could be elvish, dwarvish, a mix, who knows. I have a strange feeling that besides Linnor herself, the only one who can give us answers is Gandalf."

Fili sighed. He hated when his little brother got all insightful on him. It looks like they wouldn't get their answers until the wizard met up with them, and Mahal only knows when that could be, with Thorin's impatient pushing to move on.

Kili stretched.

"Time to wake Bofur."

~  
Thorin listened to his nephews. They were right about everything. There was something special about this girl from Rivendell, who so resembled his long dead brother, Frerin. Her laugh, her face, her voice, how she was so open and carefree when she burst into song. It was him. But it was also Fili. And Kili. And his little sister, Dis. And himself. It was like looking at his entire family held in one person, one body.

It didn't surprise him to hear that it might be possible that she wasn't human. He had known that right from the start. But dwarvish or elvish (Mahal forbid) was beyond him. Kili was right. Thorin closed his eyes and slipped into a light, uneasy doze.

They would have to wait for the wizard.


	10. Chapter 10: Down in Goblin Town

**A/N: I'm back from vacation! It was relaxing, and I had plenty of time to write up ideas for future chapters and even some new stories. But for now, please enjoy Chapter 10. (Hobbit characters are not mine.)**

The next thing she knew, Thorin was yelling.

"Get up. GET UP NOW!"

Linnor or felt the cave floor shift and tilt beneath her, and she was falling into the mountain. She was sliding down some sort of dark, dank tunnel, hitting sharp edges on the way down. She could hear the yells of the dwarves behind her, yells of anger, surprise, and fear.

After what seemed like an eternity, Linnor crashed into a crudely made open cage. A second later, the full weight of 13 dwarves and a hobbit landed on top of her.

"Ugh!" she exhaled sharply, her face pressing painfully into the bottom of the bars, which was covered in grime and some other dark substance. Linnor really didn't want to look too closely.

"Ooh, sorry, lassie, I-"

"LOOK OUT!"

Linnor finally managed to push herself off her stomach and take a look around her. And the first sight to greet her eyes thoroughly terrified her. Large, lumbering, grotesque creatures were racing towards them, all shrieking and wailing, making the most horrible sounds she had ever heard. They screamed and yelled and grabbed them from the hold, jostling them, hitting and biting, dragging them apart and shoving them into an adjoining passage. One particularly nasty looking thing sneered at her as he lifted her up, his tongue sliding out over his crooked teeth, his black eyes glinting evilly.

"OY! "

"PUT HER DOWN, GOBLIN-FILTH!"

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF-"

The dwarves roared with anger, shoving and fighting against the...goblins?! Her heart stopped, tears welling in her eyes. Oh god. Not good.

The goblin holding her growled and threw her over his hideous, deformed shoulder and hurried off down the tunnel, and into the depths of Goblin Town.

Twists and turns, past crude cells and deep ravines they rambled, the goblins being none too nice or gentle, and the dwarves returning the courtesy. Slowly, as they got closer to what Linnor assumed was the center of town, more and more Goblins raced past them, and above and below, on paths and tracks and small wooden bridges connecting wall to wall. Linnor could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Oh where was Gandalf when you needed him?!

The goblins led them to a huge cavern, which seemed to be a double for an arena type setting. Thousands of goblins had gathered all above and around the center, screaming and calling and hissing and growling. It sounded horrendous. But it was nothing compared to what awaited them.

Asitting upon a throne of bones and decay sat the biggest, fattest, nastiest goblin Linnor had ever laid eyes on, which frankly, said a lot. He was scarred and bruised, one eye a milky white color, the other a shock blue, and his chin wobbled underneath his knees. Razor sharp teeth peaked out from his wide mouth.

"Well, well, well. Who dares to enter MY kingdom?" The Goblin King rumbled, lumbering off his chair.

"Dwarves, Your Malevolence. Found them on the front porch." a small, squeamish looking goblin chattered. The Goblin King eyed them suspiciously, then noticed Linnor and the goblin still holding her captive over his arm.

"And who do we have here? A female dwarfling?"

The goblin dropped her roughly on the ground. Linnor didn't dare move.

"Not any dwarf I've ever seen."

The next thing she knew, she was being lifted off the ground by her arm, dangling at an odd angle, and face to face with the King.

"Hmm...looks more like an elf than a dwarf!" he laughed. The dwarves surged, and we're held back, all eyes on the two of them.

"Although..." he murmured, bringing her closer. "I can see it there. Not fully, but a part. Almost as if...well. Looks like we caught ourselves a Half-breed!"

Anger surged through her body. How DARE he?! HALF-BREED?!

"YOU LIAR! FILTH!" she screamed, proud of how solid her voice sounded. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the shocked looks on the company's faces, whether from her outburst or the accusation, she wasn't sure.

"I AM NO SPAWN OF...OF...I AM HUMAN! PURE! UNLIKE SCUM AND POISON LIKE YOUR KIND! HOW DARE YOU!" she spat in the King's face, her false bravado giving her an extra surge of fierce defiance.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, dearie." he sneered. "NOW, what is a pretty little piece like you doing with a nasty band of miners such as these? Where are you going? TALK!"

Tears were here forming at the edges of her eyes again, but she didn't say a word. Nobody spoke.

"If you won't talk," the Goblin King chuckled darkly, squeezing her arm so tight it was beginning to burn, "we'll make you squawk! Bring out the Bone-Crusher! And start with this one!"

He shook her hard so her neck snapped back. She heard a roar, dwarves mixed with goblins and the sound of her own heart beat in her ears, blackness edging on her eyes.

This time a tear did slide down her cheek.


	11. Chapter 11: Twists and Turns

**A/N: I apologize for the short chapters. I'm working really hard on trying to make them longer, and the chapters featuring songs will be considerably longer as well as when the main action of the trilogy picks up. I am trying to follow the movies as much as possible so I can visualize what I'm recreating. Obviously I do not own the Hobbit characters and places and so forth, and only Linnor is mine.**

 **I appreciate all reviews, thoughts and opinions.**

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light broke through the crowd, seeringly blue and pure, like starlight, but hotter and more fierce than any star Linnor had ever seen. The power behind it knocked everyone over, and causing the Goblin King to drop her several feet to the ground. They lay in stunned disarray for a few seconds as a shadowed figure emerged from the pale glowing torch light. Linnor breathed a sigh of excited relief. Gandalf had come.

Gandalf had his staff, glowing palely, in one hand, and in the other, he held Glamdring.

"Get up! Take arms! And fight. FIGHT!" Gandalf yelled, spurring dwarves and goblins to action.

With a roar of defiance, Thorin and company snatched back their weapons from the boards and turned on the vicious, misshapen beasts with a fury. Likewise, the goblins drew out makeshift daggers and bows and attacked with vengence on their captives. Linnor watched from where she had fallen, still in shock at the whirl of action around her. She saw Thorin and Gandalf fighting their way over to her.

"Linnor!" Thorin yelled, rushing over and helping her to her feet, before swirling around to sink his sword into an oncoming goblin.

"Linnor! So this is where you've run to!" Gandalf laughed candidly as he decapitated another one. "Well, I suppose one would only assume. It's a definite nature, a blood trait, I guess. Oh," Gandalf continued, ignoring her confused look. "You may want to hold onto this while we're here. May come in handy."

He passed her a stout, silver sword, gleaming blue with a eerie sort of light. Oddly enough, though the feeling of a weapon in her hand was strange and slightly uncomfortable, there was indeed something secure and calming about it as well. Linnor gulped. She only hoped she didn't need to use it.

"THIS WAY!" Thorin yelled, leading them all down a rickety path deeper into the mountain, the wood planks creaking and snapping as they ran.

It was like a scene from her deepest nightmares. Goblins of all grotesque forms swarmed them from above, below, behind, in front, even swinging from across the ravine on long ropes. Her heart was beating in her ears, blocking out all sound and leaving her with an erratic thrumming. Her breathing was ragged and gasping, small sobs breaking through now and then as she ran to catch up to the others. They were running deeper and deeper into the heart of the Misty Mountains, taking dark twists and turns, not knowing if they even led anywhere at all.

Suddenly, a surge of goblins clambered up from below, blocking her from the rest of the company. A few turned and leered at her, racing towards her, claws outstretched, teeth barred in a cruel hiss. Linnor froze with terror, a shrill scream escaping her lips. As the things descended, she raised her sword in a feeble attempt to save herself, eyes clenched shut. She felt a jolt up her arm, and something warm splash over the front of her. Linnor opened her eyes in shock. A goblin was speared on the end of her sword, apparently having run itself through, unable to stop. It's white eyes were wide open, a line of blood trailing down it's chin, black ooze pouring from the gaping wound in it's chest, and drenching her. She stood, frozen and nearly sick with the feeling of the warm ichor on her front. The screams were barely a white noise in her ears. Another scream broke out of her thoat when a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders, pushing her onwards.

"My dear," Gandalf's voice rushed urgently. "Now may not be the time to have an hysterical breakdown. If you would be so kind to hold onto that once we are not in dire peril, I assure you, you will be greatly justified. Now, RUN!"

Her body was numb. She felt nauseous. Everything was hazy. She was covered in blood. She had KILLED someone...thing...? Oh lord, she was going to be sick.

"COME ON, THIS WAY!"

"FASTER!"

"GANDALF!"

"LOOK OUT!"

"LINNOR, HURRY!"

They sprinted around another bend and were halfway across a tattered bridge when-BOOM! The gigantic, gelatinous, disgustingly deformed shape of the Goblin King landed with a crash, blocking them out, a swarm of goblins racing behind them, trapping them in the middle. The Goblin King's beady, bloodshot eyes surveyed them viciously.

"Well, well, well." it chuckled darkly. "End of the line, Half-Breed! Filth, scum, trespassers! It's over! What are you gonna do, Wizard?"

He let out a chocking laugh as Gandalf walked slowly and defiantly up to the monster. Though he was smaller, Gandalf spoke of more power than Linnor could even imagine. With a quick flick of his wrist, he cut a slit in his stomach, making the King howl in pain. Another flick, and his throat was cut.

"Yep, that'll do it." He nodded, and with another echoing crash, he fell, dead at last.

There was keen silence from everyone. They hardly dared to believe their luck. It didn't last long. At that moment, a dull snap was heard, and the boards gave way, sending them down a steep ravine at breakneck speed. Linnor let out another scream, but this time, she wasn't the only one. Wood splintered off and shot away into the darkness as they gathered speed and the rock floor loomed closer.

 _This is it we are going to die we are going to be smashed to bits what they hell was I thinking I don't belong here I killed someone oh god oh god oh god!_ Linnor clenched her eyes shut, too afraid of her impending death to actually view it firsthand. Never in her wildest dreams from Rivendell did she imagine this kind of horror.

At the last second, their wood sled of death stuttered to a halt, pausing briefly, caught in the mountain walls, before collapsing. Grunts and groans echoed in the small cavern.

"Well, tha' coulda been worse." Bofur sighed, just as the heavy body of the Goblin King followed their descent and landing on their little pile. Linnor groaned at the added weight, her lungs nearly collapsing under the pressure. What were the odds. Slowly everyone managed to unearth themselves from the debris and dead goblin.

Linnor stood shakily, a slight roaring in her ears. She shook her head, but instead of clearing it, the roaring got louder...and angrier. Linnor turned fearfully.

"Gandalf...we have a problem!"

Thousands of goblins were now racing full speed down the cliff side, no doubt seeking blood for their king's death.

"Only one thing will save us now." Gandalf yelled. "Daylight! Hurry, run now!"

The company turned and made their last and final break for the glimmer of sunlight out into the wild once again, away from goblins and tunnels, and out to the other side.


	12. Chapter 12: A Brief Pause

**A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, to be honest. This is where everything really starts to change. I can't wait for everything to eventually unfold, but we all will have to wait for that. I'm really looking forward to any and all reviews. I promise to update again soon!**

They ran and ran, dodging trees and roots as they sped down the mountain side. Linnor couldn't breathe, and everything just went by in one total blur. She was only barely aware of what was happening, still caught on what she had just been through. After what seemed like an eternity, Gandalf, who had been leading them, finally slowed in a more open clearing of a circle of scraggly trees and rocks.

"Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Thorin, Oin, Gloin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo..." Gandalf counted breathlessly. "Where's...ah there you are, Linnor!"

Linnor slowed to a halt, clutching the stitch in her side and breathing hard. After a minute, she noticed everyone was staring at her. She looked down and remembered the black sludge pouring from the goblin. Linnor lifted the sword she didn't realize she had still been holding.

"Well done!" Kili cheered. "We'll make a warrior out of you yet! Haha, I didn't know you had it in you, Linnor!"

Linnor didn't move. She just stared at the blood as it dripped slowly off her coat onto the grass. She could already feel it soaking into her skin underneath. It was thick and wet and heavy, and the smell was bringing her nausea back in furious waves. She could feel it coming on, building up. Her face paled and she swallowed hard. The dwarves looked at her in concern, though Gandalf took a step back.

"Linnor?" Oin said. "Are you alright, lass?"

Linnor nodded slowly, trying to will away the urge to throw up. Bofur moved forward, a kind smile on his face.

"Tha'd be goblin blood, on ya miss. Kind of thick an' heavey, but it's wash out within a week or two. It's really more of a sludge, a muddy kind of paste. The smell is what gets a lot of folk. Like rotting skin and fish, with that classic odor goblins seem to just carry with them, ya know?"

She threw up.

The company waited in awkward silence, waiting for the young girl to finish emptying her stomach. A few averted their eyes as a polite. Thorin turned away and walked over to the wizard, who was standing at the edge of the clearing, looking back the way they had just come.

"She is tougher than I thought." Thorin mused aloud, glancing sideways at the wizened man.

Gandalf gave only a small smile. He seemed to be lost in deep thought, a dangerous place to tread for any folk. It leads one down to where they do not want to go, with dark thoughts and truths the light should never see. Thorin knew his own, but it unnerved him to think of the powerful ally before him with secrets of his own.

"She is indeed a surprise. More than you know." He said in a low voice, the last bit trailing off.

They stood in silence for a bit, the faint sound of Linnor retching slowly fading out. Gandalf turned and nodded at the surly dwarf.

"Come. Let us take advantage of this brief pause. There is something we must attend to immediately if we are going to proceed any further."

He walked off back towards the others, who were now surrounding the young girl, making her smile as Oin checked her over. She had changed out of her bloody clothes and into an extra pair of Ori's, and it fit her surprisingly well. Thorin trudged after the wizard, wondering what he had planned.

Linnor gave a weak smile as Kili and Fili tried another crude joke. It was strange to see these rowdy, brutal dwarves become so gentle and courteous, trying to make her feel better, even giving her privacy to change into new clothes. But though her stomach had settled down quite a bit, she was still far from okay. She kept replaying the tunnels in her mind: the running, the monsters, the goblin she killed, the blood...but most of all...every word the Goblin King had said. Something didn't sit right. That foul beast had even right and reason to lie to her, antagonize her and her friends, but somehow he didn't. Or at least, she didn't believe he did. She could feel it in her heart that he was right, but about what she couldn't tell. She heard a branch snap and looked up to see Thorin and Gandalf walking back towards the group. Linnor stood up, suddenly focused on the one person who might actually be able to give her answers.

"Gandalf." Linnor called.

Everyone turned and opened up their tight circle to let them through. The wizard paused and sighed. He looked extremely tired, but not surprised, as if he had been expecting this. Thorin looked at both of them in confusion.

"Linnor, I am glad to see you feeling better. Now, there is something I wish to-"

"What am I?"

She didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but before she could think, the words escaped her mouth. Gandalf looked taken aback and the dwarves suddenly felt extremely awkward, as if they were going to be eavesdropping on an extremely personal conversation. Bilbo cleared his throat nervously.

"Whatever do you mean, child? You are-"

Again she stopped him.

"I am not a child. I have left those years far behind me. I am...well I don't know what I am, Gandalf. That...that monster..." she had no idea what she was trying to say, but she knew it had to be said. "He called me a half-breed. He said he could see it there, buried deep."

There was silence. No one dared to say anything. They all felt that this was leading to something important, something that had been secretly building without them noticing. Thorin tensed. She was angry, scared, confused, and once again it hit him how much she looked like...no. It hit him suddenly, just an inkling of it. Could she really and truly...?

"For years," Linnor's voice was wobbly, as if she was barely in control of her emotions. " I thought I knew. I was a human girl, blessed with living in the city of Rivendell among the elves. That was a lie. Humans don't age like I do, I realized that early on. I thought it was a blessing of the elves. So what is the truth?"

The question was pointed directly at Gandalf, and everyone's eyes turned to him. In that moment, he looked older and more frail than they had ever seen him. His eyes were downcast.

"I deserve to know the truth, Gandalf!"

Linnor's anger broke, tears mingled with the dirt and grim on her face, creating streaks. She visibly shook with emotion and Ori nervously took a step back. No one breathed.

"The truth..." Gandalf murmured, slow and reluctant, "does not affect just you, Linnor. There are others that play a part and will be changed. But you and they deserve it now."

Linnor drew back slightly, waiting.

"You are not human."

The words were expected, but they still came as a blow, and she felt tears welling up again.

"You are indeed... a half-breed, though that is a vulgar and offensive term that I would never use. You see, your mother was an elvish maiden in the court of… Lord Elrond. That is primarily the reason why you were...um...permitted to live in Imladris. She was a dear friend of his, and before she… died, she begged him to watch over you and keep you safe. I suppose, in his mind, that meant locking you away from the rest of the world."

Linnor calmed down a ton at this news. Her mother was elvish? Well, that wasn't so bad...and it certainly did explain quite a lot, like her similarities to the elves who had been her family for so long...and her talent at slowly aging, which, now knowing the truth, didn't seem so spectacular now. There was one half of the mystery solved. But Gandalf was still holding something back, and she could tell it was bigger than her mother's nature.

"And what about my father? Gandalf, your hiding something. Tell me about my father!"

Gandalf sighed, his eyes sadly staring through her.

"Your father..."

At that moment, Thorin spoke up. He had to know.

"Was my brother, Frerin."


	13. Chapter 13: The Truth

**A/N: I am a big supporter of emotional angst, as you can possibly see. There will be quite a lot of emotional moments in this story, so you have been warned. I love when stories can make me cry so I wanted to add a little of that in here. Once again, this is very short. I promise longer chapter will come in the future. So enjoy and please review!**

"Uncle...?" Fili's voice was barely above a whisper. The whole group had gone silent, which for a group of fierce dwarves, was a feat unto itself.

Thorin gave a weary look over at his nephew. He knew that his nephews, and probably the others, had made it a quiet sport to question and wonder about Linnor. He had heard their midnight conversation, as had a few others no doubt. But this was not a guess, not anymore. This was real, for all of them. This meant more than the end to questions. This opened up a whole new case of nightcrawlers.

Fili was wide-eyed and confused, like he couldn't believe what he had just heard and was waiting for someone to laugh and say it was all one big joke. Thorin could hardly blame him, although what he was fearful o he wasn't sure. Kili looked broken and lost, although Thorin thought that may have been because he had been harboring a bit of a crush on the lass. Whatever else was said about his youngest prince, Kili wasn't slow, but he was a flirt. But in both of them there was one thing the same. Thorin saw in their eyes the hurt of this massive secret and the utter shock of what it all implied.

Linnor literally took a step backwards. There was just no way. If her father was Thorin's brother, that made _her_ his _niece!_ And that meant Fili and Kili were her COUSINS?! She shook her head. She would have known if she had any other outside family. At the very least, they would have known. Thorin certainly seemed to. But that wasn't enough proof. Linnor glared at Gandalf, ignoring Thorin.

"Is that true?"

Gandalf sighed, the whole company now staring at the three of them in utter disbelief.

"Yes. Your father was Frerin, Thorin's brother."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and looked down, trying to control her raging emotions. When she looked back up, her eyes were dry and angry, not that anyone could tell the difference in her raging emotional state.

"How long. How long have you known?" she growled. No one answered. "HOW LONG? DID YOU KNOW?" Linnor turned onto Fili, who jumped in surprise. "DO YOU ALL KNOW?"

"No!" Gandalf's tone was sharp. "They knew nothing until now."

"Then how did Thorin know?"

Thorin chuckled darkly.

"I didn't." he took a step towards her. "You look so much like him. You remind me of him so much...I thought it couldn't be. But I had to wonder. And I was right. You are his blood. My blood."

Linnor shook her head again. She had so many questions. What happened to her parents, her father? Did she have more family she didn't know about? How did she remind Thorin of her father? What else were they hiding? She needed to ask, to know-

She glanced at the company's faces and her heart sunk a little. Most were looking conflicted, like they were unsure how this was all going to end. Gandalf looked ashamed, as he rightly should be. She knew he and Elrond to be long friends. He must know it all, every piece of truth and he kept it to himself.

Bilbo looked out of place. That's no surprise, and she could hardly fault the little hobbit for any of this. From what others had told her before, they had picked him up before they arrived in Rivendell, and even then Bilbo had been extremely wary of anything on the verge of exciting and new. He was probably the only one she could trust now.

The others looked as shell shocked and confused as she was, so it was safe to bet they didn't know the truth either. But this group was family. They had traveled together, fought together. How could she be sure they didn't share their suspicions about her amongst themselves when they knew she couldn't hear? They didn't even bother to ask her what she thought of herself, and that stung quite a bit.

But what hurt most of all was how her new family looked. Thorin, despite his soft words, looked completely pained at the sight of her. Did he have a falling out with his brother and now the sight of her tore open old wounds? That's what it looked like…but why hasn't he looked like that before he knew the truth?

Fili looked panicked, like he was on the verge of losing something important. He was eldest, right? Was he going to lose the crown now that she was proven to be another heir? Was she going to lose her cousin right away because of something she had no control over? And Kili-he looked absolutely repulsed. He hated the thought of having her as a cousin, then. For the first time in her long, long lifetime, she had a family and they hated her.

"I'm going home." she whispered.

Linnor started down the mountain away from the group, not giving them a chance to stop her, and not giving them a chance to see the tears in her eyes. The wind was picking up, whistling in her ears, blocking out the sounds of the stunned company lumbering after her.

"Wait!" Gandalf called, grabbing her arm. "You cannot leave."

Linnor jerked her arm out of his grip and glared at him, her broken heart mending slightly to fuel her subdued anger.

"You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do, _wizard._ I have been manipulated and bossed around my whole life. No one has ever told me the truth in my life, and I thought that I could finally get away from all the lies and just be myself. I just wanted to find a place where I belonged, and I THOUGHT that would be here. Apparently I was wrong. I can't be anyone but what you've made me out to be now. I'm leaving."

A harsh, guttural howl ripped through the air, breaking the emotional turmoil on the mountainside. Linnor didn't know that sound, but judging by the other's faces, it was something they had encountered before, and it was far from good.

"Wargs."

"On second thought, I can stick around for another minute or so. RUN!"


	14. Chapter 14: Upon the Eagles

**A/N: And I'm back! School is starting again soon and I have a lot to get done before classes start. But luckily I had this next chapter all set up and ready to go, and I finally have the time to post. I'd like to remind that I only own the characters Linnor and Faolan, and everything else is Tolkien's creative genius. Thanks and please continue reading and reviewing!**

Linnor blinked as the cool wind whipped her face, bringing stinging tears to her eyes, and she grasped the golden feathers tightly. Her heart was still pounding on the near death of her and the company only minutes before.

Orcs and wargs had plagued after them, chasing them to a far cliff down the mountain and to a few scraggly trees. In hopes of escaping, they had climbed to the tops, but that only resulted in being cornered even more. The wargs had broken and bashed the trees, sending them all toppling to another until they all rested on the last tree…perched on the edge of the Cliffside. Finally Gandalf had the brilliant idea to set the ground ablaze in fire to smoke out the wolvish fiends. Linnor had lost track of what happened in the smoke and flames. It burned her eyes and lungs so badly she couldn't see it breathe. When it finally cleared, she had seen the whole company fighting for their lives...and Thorin unconcious on the rocks.

That was when her heart had stopped and the screaming began. That was her uncle. Her family. However furious she had been minutes before, whatever anger and sadness and humiliation had passed and given way to fear and...dare she think love for her new family? After all these years of being alone, Linnor hardly knew what that was anymore. The elves in Rivendell hadn't really been family, only acquaintances of a sort. She had screamed herself hoarse in calling his name when a louder, more piercing cry echoed instead, cutting her short. She looked up and saw Eagles; giant golden eagles swooping down on the mountain, grabbing wargs, orcs and dwarves and tossing them over the edge. One soared to the shattered tree where she and Gandalf sat and picked them up and tossed them along side, only for her to land on another gentle bird. They were saving them. And after a moment, they turned and left the mountain cliff in flames. It was like a nightmare turning into a waking dream.

Now, on the safety of her Eagles wings, Linnor looked for the others. Thorin was hanging limply in the lead Eagles talons and Fili and Kili were just behind.

"THORIN!" Fili screamed.

Linnor leaned forward anxiously, but saw no response from the King. Instead she watched her cousins. How could she ever be a part of their family? Or any family, for that matter? They were his heirs, his life, his world. They were Durin's line. And her? Linnor sighed. She was a half-bred spawn of two parents who didn't even bother to stick around in her life. Who could be proud of that? Looking at how devoted Fili and Kili and Thorin were to each other made Linnor feel like an outsider looking in. She could never fit into that. No, it would be better if she just went home. Wherever home was...

At long last, they reached a long slab of towering rock, and one by one, the Eagles departed them there, gently setting her down before taking off again to the east. For a moment, she watched them go, wishing the would take her far away from the cruel world she had become entangled in. The company crowded to where Thorin lay, but Linnor stood back. She wasn't sure how the proud dwarf felt about her yet and didn't want to push things with her sudden family. If she showed how much she cared and he pushed her away, if they all turned their back…it would just about kill her.

After a moment, Thorin awoke and sighed. He stood shakily to his feet.

"Where is she? Where is Linnor?" He barked.

The others stepped aside and revealed her at the back. Before Thorin could speak, however, she spoke up.

"Don't worry. I'm leaving, like you wanted. I won't be where I'm hated. I know I'm nothing to be proud of, and I'm not going to stick around with a family disgusted with me. I won't stand in the way. Just as soon as we get down, I'll -"

"Linnor." Thorins voice was shocked and possibly offended. "Why would you think we hated you? Have we shown you disrespect? Mistreatment? Why would you leave?"

Fili and Kili walked to stand next to their uncle. Everyone watched her interestedly. Linnor gulped nervously.

"You don't want me here, Thorin. I'm a reminder. I saw the way you looked at me, the way all three of you looked at me when you learned the truth. Fili, you looked shattered at the thought. Kili, like you couldn't bear it. Disgusted. And Thorin, you looked like this was just another burden on your shoulders to carry. Well, GUESS WHAT!" Linnor burst out. "ITS MY BURDEN TOO!"

She took a deep, stuttering breath.

" I have never known who I am, or where I belonged, or where my destiny lay. Until you. For the first time in my life, I found my true family and you pushed me away. So congratulations. You got your wish. I'm gone."

Linnor or wiped her eyes briefly and made to push her way past them, but Kili grabbed her arm. He looked her in the eyes.

"You thought I couldn't bear to have you as a cousin? That I was disgusted? Are you kidding?" He said incredulously. " It was with myself, Linnor. Linnor, you are one of the most amazing girls I have ever met. Finding out you were my cousin was a little hard to swallow, but hey, I've always wanted a sister. While I never imagined it would be you, your just as good. Better even!"

Kili pulled led the shaking girl in for a hug. She couldn't believe it.

"Really?"

"Absolutely." This time Fili answered as he stepped forward.

"Linnor, I could never be disgusted of you. You're remarkable. It's just a lot to take in at once, plus the shock of Thorin keeping his suspicions of you from us for a long time...I was just taken off guard. Another member of our family…my mother will be delighted to have a niece to treat as a daughter. I wasn't shattered, I was shocked, but… It didn't mean I don't love knowing I have a little cousin, especially one so capable and beautiful." He hugged her close and smiled.

Linnor was close to tears. Was this even possible? Was she actually getting her family? Were they really accepting her right now? It all seemed to good to be true. She felt a hand clap her shoulder firmly. It was Thorin. Linnor nervously turned to face her uncle. This was it. He looked down at her sadly.

"I am truly sorry. Linnor, you have no idea how much you look like Frerin. To see someone you love reflected in another...it gets to be too much. I never thought I would see his face again. I may have reacted harshly in light of that, in learning my suspicions were correct. But you are his daughter. My niece. And I have never been more proud to welcome you to our company, Linnor, daughter of Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, descendent of Durin."

And with that Thorin pulled Linnor to him and hugged her, rocking her slowly back and forth as she finally broke and sobbed.


	15. Chapter 15: We Are One

**A/N: Well I'm back. I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to update as much as I'd like. School is starting in a few days and I'm going to be swamped with work, auditions and classes so I'm going to try and do my best. Luckily everything is written, so it's only a matter of uploading! Even better, this chapter has a song! The song below is We Are One from The Lion King 2. I tend to use songs from movies and soundtracks a lot to make things intriguing. Again, I own nothing but my own characters. Thanks for reading and please review! Maybe I'll update if I get a lot…**

The company sat around the fire as night closed in. They had made their way down the Carrock, where the Eagles had left them, and started into the surrounding forest. The Eagles had taken them far past the line of the Misty Mountains and placed them in distant view of the Lonely Mountain. They had walked far, but the battle had been taxing on all of them, not to mention the emotional trip they all had endured, Linnor especially. Sometime during their walk, she had found herself beside Fili, asking about the journey she really had no idea about. She asked why they would travel to Erebor now, and not all those years ago, or when they had a new home far away.

"It's our birthright." Fili explained to Linnor as they set up camp for that evening.

After their heartwarming acceptances on the Carrock, Fili, Kili and Thorin, along with the rest of the company, had begun to open up to her. It was why she had even asked the question, and she was glad she did.

"Erebor is our home, and the home of our fathers and forefathers. When Thror ruled, Thorin's father, Thrain, was prince, and Thorin the heir beside him. It's a beautiful place, full of gems and gold and silver, a full armory of the finest dwarf-made armor and weapons. But nothing compares to the King's jewel, the Arkenstone. The Heart of Erebor, it was lost to Smaug, trapped in the mountain…" Fili spoke with a faraway look in his eyes.

Linnor sat transfixed as her cousin described the city for her. It sounded beautiful...she felt a sort of longing to see another place more lovely than Rivendell to call home.

"So you've been there, grew up there? You've see it all?" she asked in wonder.

Fili shook his head and sighed longingly as he came to sit by her. The other members of the company moved slowly towards the fire, as if in a dream. Kili leaned against his brother's legs and Thorin remained standing, half in shadow.

"I was just a lad, and my mother, Dis, Thorin's sister and your aunt, was pregnant with Kili. All we know is from the stories Thorin told us, stories we grew up on. When the dragon, Smaug..." he trailed off.

The dwarves looked down sadly for a moment, letting the silence rest. Linnor waited. She had read the stories, but no one had ever really told her any. It gave her a pang in her chest and a feeling of loneliness overwhelmed her for a second. Once again, despite what they said, she felt a little like an outsider looking in at this bond that drove all of them but her to a common goal.

"After so many years, our time has come." Balin spoke softly. "To take back the mountain as the home of Durin!"

There was a murmur of determined agreement at the old dwarf's statement. The only ones who were silent were Gandalf, Bilbo, and Linnor. Linnor stared into the fire. Yes, she was in the line of Durin, part of the birthright to Erebor, but she felt like she hardly deserved any of it. Doubt crept back into her mind. As if he knew what she was thinking, though, Kili then looked up at her and smiled.

"You're part of this too, you know. It's as much your right as ours to see that door open. You're family."

Linnor blushed at her cousin, then frowned again sadly.

" Tell me about my family. My mother…my father. " she said quietly, staring into the fire.

"Your mother," Gandalf began quickly, with a glance in Thorin's direction, "was an elf in Lord Elrond's house. Ciranel, I believe her name was, pretty thing. Her hair was dark and her face kind, gentle and fair, as you'll find most elves in Rivendell to be. She was a maid in Elrond's court, and very dear friends with his daughter, Arwen."

"What happened to her?" Linnor asked, now looking at the frayed wizard for the first time in days. "I spent my life in Rivendell, and not once did I meet any "Ciranel." If she was my mother then why did I never see her? Why did she never come to see me? Why was I kept away?"

Gandalf sighed. The dwarves were silent, listening to them and knowing where it was leading to.

"Ciranel died in childbirth." the wizard admitted. "She left you in the protective care of Lord Elrond, despite that you were not full elf. It was he who hid you away, for your protection. If any had learned the truth…pretending you were human was easier for others to accept as it was not the first time."

Linnor's breath caught in her throat and a single tear slid down her cheek. She wondered why she was so sad, to lose someone she never even knew. A part of her understood what Gandalf was saying and that piece of her was very curious to hear the reasoning behind it. But the other part of her needed to hear the rest.

"And my father? Frerin? What was he like? How did he and my mother...?" Linnor choked out, unsure of who to look at for answers, finally settling her gaze on Thorin.

His eyes seemed clouded and hazy for a moment, but when he stepped into the light, the illusion was gone.

"My brother," he spoke softly, "was a fine warrior, brave and skilled, and proud to be a prince of Durin. Vicious as he was in battle, he was warm and kind upon his people and his family." Thorin sighed deeply. "There were times when he would leave, to travel or explore. He was young and reackless, and I worried. I wanted to go with him, for I never knew where, and all he would say was that he expected a great treasure out of it all. He was so happy when he came home one day. I wanted to ask what had made my young brother so utterly lovestruck, if he had finally found that treasure he told me about. There is now no doubt in my mind that the treasure was you, Linnor."

He moved to stand in front of her and his nephews, his eyes suddenly bright.

"When Smaug expelled us from Erebor, our people tried to reclaim Moria, only to find orcs had ravaged it first. We fought valiantly, and managed to succeed in victory, but at a price. Fili and Kili's father fell. Frerin fell."

Once again, the company bowed their heads in sadness and respect, and this time Linnor did the same, tears flowing freely down her face. So they didn't abandon her. They were dead. Both of them. She really was an orphan. When Thorin spoke again, it was gruff and with emotion.

"You all resemble him in so many ways. Fili, in how you treat your brother. Kili, your youth and recklessness, and in both of your fighting styles. And Linnor...you look so much like him. Your smile, your laugh, how brash and bold you are...you do him justice in his memory. You will make a fine warrior yet, and a great part of Durin's line."

Linnor finally looked up at her uncle, not bothering to wipe her streaming eyes.

"How?" she stammered, starting to lose her control. "How? I don't understand, Thorin. You're asking me to become something I don't know how to be. It's too much to take right now! I don't know if I can do this, I can't-"

A low, gentle whistle played softly, interrupting her. Linnor blinked as the melody continued, and she looked to see Bofur playing a thin wooden flute. The tune was woody and wild, and Bofur played quiet and soothingly. Thorin smiled a bit at his friend and sat beside his niece.

" _As you go through life, you'll see_  
 _there is so much that we_  
 _don't understand."_

Linnor was taken aback as Thorin started to sing in his low bass voice. It was rough and deep, but oddly sweet and calming as well. No other sound was heard except for Thorin singing and Bofur's flute and the soft crackling of the fire.

" _And the only thing we know_  
 _is things don't always go  
_ _the way we planned._  
 _But you'll see everyday_  
 _that we'll never turn away_  
 _when it seems all your dreams come undone._ "

Thorin grasped her shoulder and Linnor gave a small laugh and wiped her eyes. Everyone smiled at the small family as Thorin tried to explain who they were to his niece in a way she was sure to understand. Fili and Kili glanced at each other in surprise. Linnor wondered how Thorin was when it was only him and them.

" _We will stand by your side_  
 _filled with hope and filled with pride_  
 _we are more than we are_  
 _we are one."_

Linnor smiled at Thorin and took a breath. As long as they were admitting feelings and all that...

" _If there's so much I must be_  
 _can I still just be me?_  
 _The way I am? "_

Now they turned their attention to Linnor in surprise. Thorin's eyes widened as he listened to her. Linnor looked pleadingly at her uncle for a second then into the flames.

 _Can I trust in my own heart_  
 _or am I just one part_  
 _of some big plan?"_  
This time it was Fili who spoke up.

" _Even those who are gone_  
 _are with us as we go on  
your journey has only begun. _  
_Tears of pain, tears of joy,_  
 _one thing nothing can destroy_  
 _is our pride, deep inside,_  
 _we are one."_

Linnor could not believe this. Her heart swelled and once again tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She never would have expected this from any of the dwarves, but once again, she was proven wrong. Linnor cleared her throat and was about to say something when Kili moved closer.

" _We are one, you and I_  
 _we are like the earth and sky_  
 _one family under the sun._  
 _All the wisdom to lead_  
 _all the courage that you need_  
 _you will find when you see_  
 _we are one."_

Bofur's flute sang one last note and then there was quiet. Linnor sniffled as she looked at her new family.

"Yeah." she whispered. "I guess we are."


	16. Chapter 16: Journals

**A/N: Just a reminder: this story involves a lot of music and song lyrics from various styles of songs. That means I use the lyrics or tunes and add them to the story I have blended. So yes, this may mean that a few scenes will come out a little cheesy and fluffy. But every song I add has a purpose to the story. This was just a little reminder for those who may not have known this was a song-fic all the way through. The song I use below is All I Want by Kodaline. I don't own that, nor anything from the Hobbit. Review and read, thanks.**

"What's that you've got, Ori?"

Linnor came to sit by the younger dwarf. Though Ori wasn't actually the youngest in the company (that honor belonged to Kili), he was still considered close enough, with his baby face always filled with a sense of innocence and wonder. She had grown to have a bit of a soft spot for the dwarf, even in this short time. He was certainly different, wearing sweaters and knitted comforts rather than leather and bulk. Linnor had also noticed that whereas the others carried swords and knives and axes, even a bow, Ori carried only a small slingshot. And on many occasions, including this one, she had noticed him off to the side, away from the others, scribbling in a bound leather notebook. It had drawn her curiosity until she just had to ask.

Ori looked up in surprise, quickly covering the page. He was a little flustered being this close to Linnor. She was very pretty, and kind, and musically talent, and a Durin to boot! The only Durins he ever knew had been Thorin, his King, and Fili and Kili, who were close to family. Well, now Linnor technically was as well by that definition. The only difference being he had grown up with the princes and he and the others had met Linnor only a week ago, though it felt like so much longer. Linnor smiled and nudged the shy dwarf.

"Come on. Show me? Please?"

Ori sighed and nodded, flipping open his private journal. Linnor took in a sharp breath. It was full of drawings: sketches of flowers and plants and landmarks, some of places she had never seen, some from along their journey. She saw a mountain, standing alone, and then a roaring river. And then there were people: there was a woman, who looked oddly familiar, and Gandalf upon a horse, Dori laying out bedrolls, Nori polishing stolen silver from Rivendell, Oin setting herbs, Gloin and his axe, Bifur getting into gear, Bofur smoking his pipe, Bombur devouring a sausage, Dwalin sleeping against a ledge, Balin looking over the map, Fili and Kili together laughing, Thorin in the light of a fire, herself smiling simply, and a solid portrait of Bilbo.

"Ori, these are amazing!" she exclaimed softly.

He shrugged, clearly pleased.

"I'm not a fighter, as you might have seen. It's not really in me to fight and kill and slaughter like the others, though I try, I really do! But I consider myself more a scribe. I document everything I see, a sort of collection of images, since I've never been quite good at writing letters. It's foolish, I know, but who else is going to? One day, someone will want to hear all about the jounry to reclaim Erebor and then they will look to…well to these. "

Linnor huffed in amusement. She could see the other company members packing up their bags again. They had only stopped for a short while to rest and eat before hitting more rocky terrain. Gandalf had spoken of a possible ally just a few leagues over the ridge, but they had to reach him soon while he was amiable. Linnor felt a little uneasy at that, that comment of their possible ally being "amiable" like a vulture or another harmless, vulgar thing. She shook off the feeling, knowing it was a little ridiculous to judge someone who could help them without ever seeing him first.

"It's not foolish, Ori. Back in Imladris, I had a journal I wrote in, though it was more for verses now that I think of it. My own thoughts and emotions, nothing of the world as yours is." she sighed, a little wistfully.

"Verses?" Ori started, but just then, Thorin called over to where they sat.

'ORI! LINNOR! HURRY UP!" her uncle gruffed. Thorin was becoming more and more anxious to continue to the mountain, and Linnor could see how worried some of the others were becoming, though they tried not to show it to their King, and friend, and uncle. They all knew how important this quest was, to him especially. And it wasn't her place yet to question that.

They trekked the rest of the afternoon, leaving easy plain and wood for higher rock. Around twilight, Gandalf called for a quick halt and survey. Bilbo was designated to scout ahead as the rest waited. Sometimes having a hobbit for a burglar was handy indeed.

Linnor had sat down to rest her feet and was now squashed between her cousins. Ever since they had come to real terms that she was family, Fili and Kili had hardly left her alone for a moment. Even Thorin always needed his eye on her. It gave her a lovely feeling at first, but now it was bordering overprotective and ridiculous! She could easily take care of herself, thank you very much. If this was having family, though, it was something she could get used to.

"Linnor?" Ori sat in front of her, warded off by her two shoulder guards. "What were the verses you wrote? The ones you said from your journal back in Rivendell?"

At that, she felt all eyes shift to her. Fili and Kili didn't move, but she could tell they were listening eagerly. Boys, she rolled her eyes.

"They were verses. For songs, I guess. Or poems, really. It was a long time ago, Ori." she shrugged as if it were nothing. But she knew it wasn't.

"Do you...uh...do you remember any of them?"

At the dwarf's question, the company members drew closer in interest. Fili and Kili actually drew back to see her better. Linnor was starting to feel like their own glorified entertainment center. In any case, she thought back, further than she's traveled. It really was a long time ago. She remembered that small leather journal she had clutched in her solitude in her lovely tower. It was the only thing that had been any comfort in those days for a long time.

"One. I remember one. Long before I knew about myself or any of you, obviously. It was...well, I was young and asking far more questions about my real family than Lord Elrond was comfortable with. So I took my questions to the page. I always did like to write. I just wanted…a fairytale. A happy ending. I wanted answers."

She sat in silence for a few minutes, knowing what they expected.

" _All I want is nothing more_  
 _Than to hear you knocking at my door_  
 _'Cause if I could see your face once more_  
 _I could die a happy girl I'm sure_

 _When you said your last goodbye_  
 _I died a little bit inside_  
 _I lay in tears in bed all night_  
 _Alone without you by my side_

 _But If you loved me_  
 _Why'd you leave me?_  
 _Need somebody_  
 _Need somebody_  
 _All I want is_  
 _And all I need is_  
 _To find somebody_  
 _I'll find somebody like you"_

They were silent as Linnor finished the song from her childhood, the one she wrote in her bedroom locked away for all that time. The one about her mother and father and the little she could remember. It was all faded now. She felt tears start to pool and opened her mouth to change the subject when Bilbo came back and did it for her. He was shaken and out of breath slightly.

"Orcs. A lot of them, only a few leagues behind us. But we have worse problems. There is something bigger out there, huge, larger than wargs, like a giant bear. We need to move. NOW!"


	17. Chapter 17: Songs in Beorn's Cabin

**A/N: Warning! This chapter contains more than the usual dose of musical influence! I actually wrote lyrics from three different songs into this chapter, so you've been warned. You can skip over it, but I recommend reading the lyrics. I find them really inspiring and connected to the story and scene. The first song below is When The World Turns Upside Down by The Goo Goo Dolls. The second song is Rainbow Connection by Kermit the Frog. The last song in this chapter is Distant Melody from Broadway's Peter Pan. I do not own any of the songs, nor do I own the Hobbit characters/places.**

 **Please review!**

Linnor settled into a heavy wooden chair. After Bilbo came back with the news of the wargs, not to mention the giant bear-like creature, they had high-tailed it over the rocky terrain, following Gandalf blindly down the slope and into the trees. They had outran the night and into the early dawn when a terrific roar broke through behind them. A humongous black bear had erupted from the trees and had chased them over the field. Gandalf had led them all into a large wooden cabin as fast as they could run, which surprisingly, considering much of the dwarf's weight, was pretty fast. They had slammed into the cabin and shut the door just before the bear reached them. It was, however, not the weirdest experience on this journey for her by far, so the shock had long faded away.

The cabin was larger than she had first thought. The roof towered over all of them, even Gandalf, and everything was made of hard wood. The table and benches, which left their feet dangling an inch over the ground, and the stables of horses inside a second portion of the house, that also held sheep and livestock and huge buzzing bees. There were wide rafters and lofts above them as well, and at the head of the table across the room was an ornate chair, decorated with carvings of beasts and animals. It left much to explore and imagine. Of course, it also left much to worry about.

"Our host will not return until early next morning. A skin changer, though being able to most times chose when he changes the form he is in, often has a stage of black out periods, when he goes on a rampage as the beast he becomes. We can stay here until he returns in his human form." Gandalf explained as he rested on the wooden bench.

"Well that's just great. What are we supposed to do until that happens, sit and wait?" Dwalin growled.

The others grumbled as well in annoyance but settled around the cabin anyways. Linnor moved into a loft set just above the rest of them and curled into the arm of the rafter. As she listened to the hems and haws of bored dwarves, Linnor suddenly got a brilliant idea. She had to stifle a laugh as she thought about how much fun this would be for her, and how much it might annoy the grumpy dwarves underneath her rafter shelter.

 _There's a moment you've been waiting all your live for_  
 _When you feel you've found a meaning you could die for_  
 _And it happens when you seem to least expect it_  
 _All at once you come alive and feel connected_

 _I ignored the beat inside my heart for too long_  
 _And accepted what was right, but always felt wrong_  
 _It's a second-hand of time I've been a slave to_  
 _But inside there was a feeling, something I always knew_

 _If the world turned upside down_  
 _If the sky changed places with the ground_  
 _All the whispers, all that's possible, be clear and loud_  
 _If the world turned upside down_

 _When the road ahead just goes in one direction_  
 _And for every word you write there's contradiction_  
 _When the inner voice of reason's full of doubt_  
 _What's the point in fitting in, if you're designed to stand out_

 _If the world turned upside down_  
 _if the sky changed places with the ground_  
 _All the whispers, all that's possible, be clear and loud_  
 _If the world turned upside down_

 _I just wanna be free from limitations and rules_  
 _Imagine the space, where I could create_  
 _Imagine the look on their faces_

 _If the world turned upside down_  
 _And the earth and sky changed around_  
 _Instead of fields we walk in the stars_  
 _We'd do everything we're told we can't_  
 _What we think and feel we could shout it out_  
 _If the world turned upside down_

 _If the world turned upside down_

Linnor trailed off at the end when she noticed how quiet it was below her. She sneaked a peek over the edge. 13 dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard were all looking up at the loft where she was with amusement. Linnor grinned sheepishly.

"What? You said you were bored." she said looking pointedly at Dwalin.

The company's silence broke.

"Alright, I'll give you that, lass. I'd ask if you knew many more tunes in you, but I think we all know the answer." Gloin huffed.

Linnor's only reply was a wide grin before leaning back into the comfort of the rafters.

"Oh now you've done it, Gloin." Thorin's voice could be heard, rough but gentle. "You've set my niece on her own rampage and it's not an hour after breakfast."

Linnor smiled to herself and began her next song. It was one she remembered from when she was little, back in Rivendell, and Elrond would have some of the musicians come and play to her.

 _Why are there so many songs about rainbows_  
 _And what's on the other side?_  
 _Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,_  
 _And rainbows have nothing to hide._  
 _So we've been told and some choose to believe it._  
 _I know they're wrong, wait and see._  
 _Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection._  
 _The lovers, the dreamers and me._

 _Who said that every wish would be heard_  
 _And answered when wished on the morning star?_  
 _Somebody thought of that and someone believed it._  
 _Look what it's done so far._  
 _What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing_  
 _And what do we think we might see?_  
 _Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection._  
 _The lovers, the dreamers and me._

 _All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic._

 _Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?_  
 _I've heard them calling my name._  
 _Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors._  
 _The voice might be one and the same._  
 _I've heard it too many times to ignore it._  
 _It's something that I'm supposed to be._  
 _Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection._  
 _The lovers, the dreamers and me._

This song was quieter and softer but it had the same effect. The tough, burly warriors were humbled into silence once again at this young woman's ability to sing. Clearly in her elvish nature since dwarves were not known for their singing talents. Mostly because they had none. It was only about midday. They still had a long time before the owner of the cabin would return. Linnor changed her position so that she was looking down at her family. The hours passed, and soon the outside light was fading. Many of them, wizard and hobbit included, had begun smoking pipe weed. The foggy haze clouded her mind and after a pointless struggle, Linnor closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

Thorin eyed his niece's sleeping form from the rough wooded bench he sat on alongside Balin. His two other kin were setting bed up underneath her loft. It was actually getting late in the day. The last light remained the burning embers from the fireplace.

"Uncle-er, Thorin." his nephew Kili called over to him. Everyone had settled in in various places throughout the cabin-hut-type place. The hobbit lay near the stables on a pile of hay.

"What is it." he gruffed. He loved his youngest nephew dearly (one of the main reasons he conceded to his being an archer instead of a proper swordsman), but the lad was thoughtless in terms of speaking. The words "time and place for everything" did not exist in his already limited vocabulary.

"Do you know any-um- well do you remember when me and Fee were kids, and you and Amad, and..." he trailed off, knowing that secretly everyone was listening in.

Thorin's smile was well hidden in the shadows. He knew exactly what his nephew was asking of him. Mahal, it had been a long long while since then. They were no longer the two young dwarfling tots that had run rampant in the village, laughing and playing and fighting. Thorin cleared his throat, knowing that every eye was closed and every ear was open.

 _Once upon a time and long ago_  
 _I heard someone singing soft and low_  
 _Now when day is done, and night is near_  
 _I recall a song I used to hear_  
 _My child, my very own_  
 _Don't be afraid, you're not alone_  
 _Sleep until the dawn for all is well_  
 _Long ago this song was sung to me_  
 _Now it's just a distant melody_  
 _Somewhere from the past I used to know_  
 _Once upon a time and long ago..._

The low baritone trailed off on the last note, his mind far away, and above him, Linnor lay with her eyes open, a single tear trailing down her cheek, all for the past she wished she knew.


	18. Chapter 18: Moving to Mirkwood

**A/N: I don't own any of the Hobbit characters, etc. The song below is Where No One Goes by John Powell and Jonsi. Guys, we are almost into Mirkwood, and you know what that means. Yes, Legolas Greenleaf is soon to make an appearance! I am very excited for this. I'm not joking. Anyway, please review! And read away!**

Linnor woke to the sound of voices below. She was perched into the shoulder of a roof rafter in a small loft above the rest in the wooden cabin they had stopped in the day before. Slowly, her mind brought back last night and she smiled sadly as the music whispered in her ears. Stretching herself out of the cramped position, she moved to the edge of the loft , about to shout down an all too cheery wondering of breakfast when she heard a deep voice, deeper than Thorin's. That must be their undistinguished, skin changer host. It certainly sounded beastly enough. Linnor gripped the edge and slipped off, dropping herself onto the floor below with a loud thud. All eyes at the wood table in the kitchen area turned to her. Linnor noticed that a few members were missing, evidently outside and by the horses' stables, while Bilbo remained blissfully unaware in the hay.

Her eyes traveled to the newcomer in the cabin. As expected, he was a tall, tall man with broad shoulders. He simply towered over everyone else in the room, though granted Gandalf wasn't completely dwarfed by the man. He has a fine layer of dark hair coating his body and thin clothes on top of that. His eyes were black like coals, with the center a burning ember.

"Ah, Linnor. Good, you're up. I'd like you to meet the owner of our lovely abode, Beorn." Gandalf introduced, his telltale smile bright and knowing.

Beorn eyed the young girl warily. An elven, dwarven girl traveling with dwarven companions, a wizard and a Halfling. Clearly the strangest company to pass by his neck of the woods. The girl in turn eyed him with suspicion and curiosity. The look of one who has encountered something so far out of their range they did not know how to approach it in safety. Ah yes, he knew that look.

"I have control over my shape, child. In this form I am more rational, less animalistic. I would not say safer, but you are in trusted company, as I am sure you know." he spoke softly, his eyes piercing.

Linnor straightened out and walked purposely forward until she was level with the dwarves and Gandalf and facing down the Bear Man.

"Beorn, I am not afraid. In the last week alone, I have leapt out a window, seen Stone Giants and survived the battle, been groped and beaten by goblins, chased by wargs and orcs, nearly set on fire, flew upon a giant eagle, and the journey is in no way over. There is so much of the world I haven't seen yet and I am just getting started. Yes, you are something I have never encountered, but I am in no way going to run and hide behind friends and family who have sheltered me this far and a lot of good that did. So please, instead of treating me like a child, or worse at this point, a girl, I would like to hear the plan. What are we doing next?" Linnor finished her rant and ended a little breathless, her hands fashioned on her hips.

Beorn looked at her impressively for a moment. A few of the dwarves were a little shell shocked at her, but Gandalf was unchanged. In fact, he looked absolutely delighted that Linnor had calmly stood her ground in front of a dangerous skin changer more than twice her own size. The Bear Man stared at her long and hard, in a thinking manner, but Linnor never broke away.

"You're very impatient." he said at last. "Very well, child. Your King has already made it clear that the purpose of your journey is not to be shared, though it does not take much imagination. Your wizard has just requested transport to the next medium of your travels. I will be honest. I hate dwarves. But I hate Orcs more. And that is the reason I will help you." he motioned them all to the stables.

Before midday, the company was astride fifteen ponies (Gandalf was riding a horse) all courtesy of Beorn. Linnor rode on her own silver mare, named Nightshade, right behind Thorin, her cousins flanking her sides and the rest trailing behind them like a caravan. Gandalf had told them that they were making for the Mirkwood, about twelve leagues from Beorn's cabin. It would take them until about early afternoon to reach the edge and then they would trek on foot from there. Beorn had made it clear that the horses were not a gift, only a loan to the forest edge.

Linnor sighed as Nightshade trotted behind Thorin. It was a long way to Mirkwood.

 _Let the wind carry us_  
 _To the clouds, hurry up, alright_  
 _We can travel so far_  
 _As our eyes can see_

There were chuckles and groans all around her, which she ignored. She was singing loud, but it was more to herself than anyone else. It was more of a habit, now really, when she was bored or nervous and sometimes she forgot exactly who and where she was.

"You owe me twenty pieces." someone growled

 _We go where no one goes_  
 _We slow for no one_  
 _Get out of our way_

 _Awake in the sky_  
 _We break up so high, alright_  
 _Let's make it our own,_  
 _Let's savor it_

 _We go where no one goes_  
 _We slow for no one_  
 _Get out of our way_

 _We slow for no one_  
 _We go where no one goes_

 _We slow for no one_  
 _We go where no one goes_

 _We go where no one goes_

"Alright, enough for one day!" Thorin was facing away from her, but she was almost positive he was smiling. As much as Thorin could, in any case.

He snapped he reigns on his pony, moving from a trot to a gallop.

"Move!"

All at once, fourteen poines and a horse broke out into a full gallop after Thorin. In no time at all, they reached the forest. The whole outlook was decayed. In all the books she had read at home, and from the view from her window, Linnor had always thought the world was green and alive. But here...everything was dead and fallen and brown. The whole place felt wrong. There was shadow here darker than the tunnels beneath the mountain, and Linnor shivered.

"I must leave you here." Gandalf spoke up.

The company paused in unloading the ponies to stare at the greying wizard. Linnor couldn't believe it as she whirled to face the wizard. She could feel the panic start to rise into her chest. They never would have made it this far without Gandalf. She doubted that she would have even made it out of the goblin tunnels alive without him. And they haven't even reached the most harrowing part of their journey yet. He couldn't leave them now!

"Do not fret, Linnor Alea Sathren Durin. It is not forever. I am not leaving you to your demise. But there are more pressing matters I must attend to. You will be fine." he assured as he mounted his horse.

Linnor watched as he hitched the horse and started moving away from them. Their one assurance of safe passage to the Lonely Mountain, of fighting Smaug, was leaving them behind. How could he do that to them, to her? And for the third time since the whole damn thing started! She felt a hand grip her shoulder. It was Fili.

"Don't worry. We'll be alright. Come on."

Linnor turned away and made to follow her companions, now one less. As she made to step foot into the dark forest after them, something made her stop. A voice on the wind.

"Don't stray from the path!"


	19. Chapter 19: The Mirkwood Elves

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I know it wasn't too long, but it was long for me. I'm so happy you guys like it so far, and I can't wait to let this unfold. So without, further adieu: I do not own LOTR and the Hobbit characters except Linnor. Please review, review, review!**

* * *

They walked carefully and silently through the dead forest. It was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It was an eerie silence, one that felt suffocating and almost like it was pressing in from all sides. Linnor felt like she was being watched as she crept along behind the others. Ori had told her as they left Beorn's that it was rumored that this forest was sick, that it used to be called Greenwood until a darkness fell upon it and let living things decay. She hadn't really believed him until they had entered the place. Everything was dark and smelled like death. Nothing pure could survive long here. The forest itself seemed to choke everything to its bleakest point.

The forest was near pitch dark, even though they knew it to be midafternoon above the trees. Somehow this was scarier than everything they had faced so far. Linnor stumbled to the side and a strong arm caught her before she hit the ground. Nervously, Linnor looked up at her uncle. He gripped her arm upwards and set her on her feet. Through his gruff approach, however, she saw gentle eyes and her heart settled a bit.

"They are only trees. Nothing lives in this wood worth being afraid of, and even if there was, your family will protect you. But no doubt you can take care of yourself." he said quietly, though it echoed in the close, dense space.

Linnor tried to smile, but it came out shaky and crooked. She straightened herself up and the company moved on their way, slowly and with caution. Hours passed and the air became thicker. Something wasn't right; her mind was foggy and it felt like they were just going in circles, though she knew, somehow, they weren't. Her throat was dry and her eyes struggled to see through the dizzying patterns. She felt heavy and tired and all she wanted to do was curl up on the ground, close her eyes and sleep. She could tell that the others felt like she did. Bombur even let out a wide yawn. Nothing was making any sense, and the path was getting harder and harder to follow...

They had stopped under a twisted old tree. For a moment, the wooziness had passed and Linnor got her bearings straight again. Bilbo was chosen to climb up there to see how close they were to the other end of the wood, and he soon vanished high above them. It had been hours, or maybe only a few minutes, it was hard to tell right then and Linnor felt the suffocation coming back. A branch above them snapped and everyone looked up.

"Bilbo?" Kili called up.

There was no answer. The dwarves looked grimly at each other. No one knew exactly what resided in Mirkwood, but no one was in the mood to find out. Despite Thorin's earlier comfort, panic fluttered quickly beneath Linnor's rib cage. Where was that hobbit? Linnor started to walk around the side of the tree trying to see if she could see up through the thick leaves and branches. She heard another crack, this time behind her, and she turned around. What she saw was the most horrific, disgusting, revolting monster she had hoped never to encounter. For a second, the fog in her mind lifted enough for her to scream.

"THORIN! HELP!" she managed before the thing leapt at her and she blacked out.

Thorin whirled in the direction of his niece's voice. She sounded terrified. All he wanted was to run to help her, like he promised her he would. But her cry for help bounced through the trees, making it hard to pinpoint where it was coming from in the first place. Echos of terror wrenched through his heart like sharpened elf blades.

"Linnor!" Fili drew his sword and frantically turned as well, in panic and confusion.

More branches snapped and the company was torn away in every direction. Suddenly, another scream broke out, silenced quickly. Then another and another. Thorin couldn't focus as one by one, something reached down and out of the shadows and grabbed his team, his friends and family. He looked up in silent terror and saw it. He reached for his sword in preparations for a fight, but in one swift move, everything went black.

* * *

"I _hate_ spiders." Kili grumbled as he tore bits and pieces of webbing from his hair and face. Around him, his brother and others were hastily trying to do the same.

Bilbo had once again come to a terrific rescue. He was the only one not caught by the massive spiders, and was able to trail them to where the beasts had poisoned, wrapped and hung each one of them. The Halfling had cut them down swiftly and they were all cutting through their sticky bonds as fast as possible to take up arms and fight.

"You said it, cousin." a young voice grumbled down by his feet.

Kili looked down and saw with relief that it was Linnor. She looked positively nauseous and disgusted but nonetheless unharmed. He held out a hand to help her up, which she was grateful for. He, at least, was grateful she didn't heave over his cobwebbed clothes.

"Come on, get your sword. Let's kill some bugs!" Kili let out a howl as spiders trailed down from the branches above, hissing in anger.

The dwarves and Bilbo hurried to their feet and fumbled for their weapons as the new enemy tore forward. Linnor, still shaky on her feet, stumbled after them. Remarkably, almost everyone had managed to hold onto their weapons, with the exception of Kili's bow and arrows. He instead used one of his brother's numerous swords he kept hidden on his person. The dwarves were fighting with fervor, but the toxin running through their veins was still too fresh, and their movements were sluggish and disoriented. Some of the spiders realized this and started to make their advance.

Suddenly, the arachnid closest to Kili froze and dropped to the ground in one fluid motion, it's legs twitching furiously. It took him a moment to realize that a sharp tipped arrow was protruding from its skull. Elves. Ten warriors swept into the dark clearing with bows taught and daggers gleaming. With hardly a sound except the dwarves surprised yelps and the vicious hissing and clacking of the giant monsters, the elves leapt to deadly action. They quickly and efficiently disposed of the attacking giant spiders and those that weren't killed were driven away. During this admittedly impressive battle, somehow the dwarves were corralled into a cluster, the elves then turning their weapons onto them.

"What are thirteen dwarves doing so far from the mountains?" a tall, blonde elf male stepped forward, clearly the head of the group.

The only replies were glares, albeit out of focus slightly from the residual venom. The blonde elf shrugged his dark clad shoulders.

"No matter. King Thranduil will have enough to say to you soon enough. Bind their hands and-"

A scream interrupted his orders and everyone, dwarves and elves alike, froze for a moment. The scream was high pitched, like a woman's or a young girl's. The dwarves faces of confusion quickly turned again to anger and panic. They had forgotten.

"LINNOR!" Kili shouted and rushed out of the group, but was shoved back by an elven orderly.

"Legolas, what-" he began to speak to his leader, but he had already turned and was running lithely towards the screams.

* * *

Linnor had watched as her company fought tiredly, though bravely against the things, and then as the elves swooped in from no where to finish them off. These elves were alike and yet unlike the ones she had lived with back in Imladris, a land so far away it was like a dream to her now. At last the fighting was done and she had been set to make her way to her family, for she had been off to the side, still too weak to fight properly (if you could call randomly swinging a sword in circles fighting). All of a sudden, her feet were dragged out from under her and she found her self being dragged harshly over the ground.

A last great spider had snuck back while the fighters were distracted and had singled out the lone, weak member: her. Linnor, in a moment of pure panic, screamed as loud and hard as she could, hoping to Valar that someone would hear her and come to her aid. There was a sudden pain in her ankles as the pincers sunk in for grip and she cried out again. Suddenly she was released and she slid to a jerky stop, too surprised to make another sound. Linnor flipped over to see a slim, but effective, arrow pierced through the spider's eyes, leaving it writhing in agony. Another arrow soon followed through it's chest, killing it instantly.

As her breathing slowed, Linnor turned back around to thank her savior, expecting her grinning, cheeky cousins or her glaring uncle. Instead, her eyes met long legs clad in dark brown boots and dark green pants, like the color of tree bark and moss. Her eyes traveled slowly upwards until she met slender, gentle hands clutching a bow, strong arms, tendrils of long blonde hair, and finally, the gentle sloping face with the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.


	20. Chapter 20: Prisoner?

**A/N: And the adventure continues! Sorry for the pause. I don't have as much time to update as I would like, but I'm working on it. I love the reviews coming from you guys so far, and I can't wait for what you say as the story progresses. The song is Touch the Sky by Julie Fowlis. As a reminder, I do not own LOTR, the Hobbit or related characters, plots or places. I only own Linnor. Thanks for reading and please review!**

Linnor shakily got to her feet, never taking her eyes off the blonde elf that saved her. His blue eyes remained fixated on her, wide with shock. Linnor self-consciously looked down at her dirty, blood-stained, tattered clothes and her face reddened with embarrassment. Mahal, she looked terrible. Before she could muster up the rest of her dignity, a loud crash broke through the brambles and the rest of the dwarven company burst through, followed by some seriously peeved off elven guards.

"Legolas, they wouldn't stay put, we tried the bindings, they insisted on checking on-" the guard started but cut off abruptly when he caught sight of Linnor.

As Linnor assured her uncle and cousins that she was perfectly fine, just a little scraped, she couldn't help but notice the uneasy glances the elves were exchanging. Slowly, the dwarves chatter died off as they apprehensively circled around her, cutting her away from the steely eyed elves.

"You. Filth." the blond who had saved Linnor from certain death stepped forward, his hand positioned on his scabbard, his eyes piercings he glared at Gloin.

The dwarf snarled but was quickly silenced as the elf went on.

"Why are you so concerned of this elvish lady? A prisoner of yours would warrant no calm feelings from cruel, boorish folks as you are, and one could only assume that your company took her from a wood in order to force passage through elfish land. The only question that remains is how you 13 shall die for this injustice." He spoke calmly but with fury regain beneath the surface. Linnor watched fascinated as his blue eyes became sharp as glass and deadly as fire.

The company was silent. No one was quite sure how to respond, and without Gandlaf to smooth things over, the consequences of their every move could prove fatal. There was a long moment, in wich no one dared to speak or glance at Thorin in fear of alerting any suspicions. Surprisingly, it was Linnor who spoke up next.

"I beg your pardon, Sir… Legolas, I believe it was. But I am no ones prisoner. I am here with these dwarves, my friends and kin if you must know, of my own free will. So if anyone has done an injustice it would be you for that outrageous, offensive accusation! I belive an apology is in order before we continue on our way, uninhibited of you and your…friends."

Linnor gave the elf an affronted look before slipping back into nervous silence, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, to cover her hammering heart. Legolas seemed vaguely surprised that she had spoken to him like so, his expression frozen in interested calculations, but his guards were clearly angered.

"Ignorant half-bred spawn! It's a lie and an atrocity! Legolas, let's kill them all now and be done with them! They would do the same if it was reversed!" An officer barked, fingering his sword.

Legolas at last turned to face his men. It was hard to tell, but Linnor thought his eyes became colder at the soldier's words, and it would seem the soldier thought so as well.

"No. We will take them back to King Thranduil. He and I shall figure what to do, but they shall, for the time being be kept in the cells. Chain them together, but the girl walks free." He ordered.

At Linnor's surprised look, Legolas motioned her to follow him at the head of the rows.

"Well not really. You will walk with me ahead. But this is the only kindness I will give to you. Move!"

Linnor glanced back at her friends, now chained and bound to each other in a single line, her cousins, concerned, and her fuming uncle, before she hurried to catch up to her beautiful captor.

* * *

They had been walking in silence for several minutes, no sound but the low swears and grumbling of the dwarves behind her. Legolas gave her off sideways looks every now and then and Linnor tried hard not to show any sign that she noticed.

"You really are kin to those...Neanderthals?" His lilting voice came quiet.

"Yes." She said, cooly. Then, as the silence spread, Linnor sighed. "Well, half." She continued quietly so the others wouldn't hear. "My father...was a dwarf. But my mother was an elf, and I was raised by elves for most of my life. "

He nodded, and after a moment spoke again.

"I must apologize for my comrades. Rude as they are, they are good men. Maenas meant no real harm. Half-elves are not so common amongst us. Though I suppose you must have already learned that by now, as far as you've come." He paused again when an interested gleam came into his eyes, his expression mischievous. " Linnor was it? Singer in the elven tongues. Do you sing?"

Linnor was slightly taken aback at this flow of gentle conversation all of a sudden, but she nodded in any case.

"Would you like to hear?" She asked nervously.

When she got no reply, Linnor took that as a yes instead of a no and cleared her throat. The wood was silent, and when she started her voice carried through the branches and echoes of the dark trunks of the oaks.

"When the cold wind is a-calling  
And the sky is clear and bright  
Misty Mountains sing and beckon  
Lead me out into the light

I will run, I will fly  
Chase the wind and touch the sky  
I will fly  
Chase the wind and touch sky"

Linnor started to pull slightly ahead of the company, moving to stand in the spaces between the trees, touching the bark as she passed, as if she could feel their laughter buried underneath the sickness that plagued them now.

Where dark roots hide secrets  
and mountains are fierce and bold  
Deep waters hold reflections  
of times lost long ago  
I will hear every story,  
take hold of my own dreams  
Be as strong as the seas are stormy  
and proud as an Eagles scream!

I will run, I will fly  
Chase the wind and touch the sky  
I will fly  
Chase the wind and touch the sky "

Linnor finished singing as they walked to an intricate layer of branches gleaming with brown and gold in the layered sunlight. It was as if a wall had sudden;y loomed up from the forest itself, blocking passage further into the woods. As she looked closer, she saw it was a door, leading into the most entwined circlet of trees, deep and dark in the heart of Mirkwood. She was so focused she never saw the stunned expression on the guards faces at her voice, nor the smug looks of pride on her friends, not even the shell shocked look of awe and amazement on the elf beside her. When she turned, his face was blank and calm, and her heart sank when he spoke again with nothing but indifference.

"Welcome, Linnor and prisoners, to the hall of Thranduil, King of the Mirkwood Elves."


	21. Chapter 21: Stars

**A/N: Guys! Thanks so much for the kind reviews! I love getting them and hearing what your thoughts are. So keep them coming please!**

 **Anyways, here is the next chapter! The piece of song below Stars, from the Broadway show Finding Neverland and sung by Pentatonix. I don't own it, nor do I own the Hobbit and etc.**

 **Enjoy and review!**

Legolas led them through the hewn doors and into the woven woodwork of the palace. Linnor knew no other word for it. Staircases and platforms raised over and over again, like a fantastic puzzle, literally branching off like the trees they burst from, and all glittering in a silver light. It made her suddenly long for the brighter halls of Rivendell, but at the same time…this was so much lovelier.

Suddenly there was a nasty metal clanging and Linnor turned to see the dwarves being stripped of weapons and thrust into cells that were carved into the walls of the stairs. One by one the doors shut until all she saw was her family's faces staring out through the bars. Linnor turned to see Legolas watching her expectantly in front of the last empty cell.

"Are-aren't you going to put me with them?" she asked timidly.

He breathed a laugh. Linnor felt a blush creeping up her neck as she took in the ice blue eyes.

"No, I'm sure Lord Thranduil would love to assess you first. Thorin Oakenshield will take this one and I will show you to your lodgings after. Besides, a dungeon cell is no place for a maiden." he smiled before turning to continue up the platform.

After a brief moment of hesitation, in which she considered refusing his offer and demanding to remain with her family, her curiosity got the better of her and she followed him deeper into Mirkwood Hall. They walked together in silence until they reached a large open space, in the center which sat a carved throne. It was more regal than she imagined in the manner that it's elegant simplicity surprised her. It was like the rest of the palace: intricate branches were woven together, berries and thorns creating an aura of suspense.

In front of them now, there stood a regal elf, more regal than Elrond far away back in Imladris, with what looked like a crown of thorns. His face was long and slender, and pale white blond hair fell gracefully on his shoulders.

"Father. I have brought someone I think will be of interest to you."

Linnor felt her breath catch as she caught that word. Father. Legolas was the son of Lord Thranduil, which made him a prince. She had been rescued and taken with a Prince of Mirkwood. She had assumed, maybe known if slightly, that he had been of a higher stature than the other elves in the forest. But this was…this was much higher than she ever thought. Nobility of this kind made her knees weak and her hands shaky, even when she tried to remind herself that technically, she was now royalty as well, Princess of Durin.

Lord Thranduil slowly made his way down to stand towering before her. Legolas moved to the side, his eyes a flash of worry before regaining their impassive stance.

"What is a pretty little...thing...like you doing traversing with a pack of dwarves so far into my domain?" his voice echoed in her skull. Or was it echoing in the room? She didn't know, and struggled to remain as calm and impressive as they were.

"My name is Linnor Alea Sathren Durin. I am the daughter of Ciranel, of Elrond's court, and Frerin, son of Thrain son of Thror, of the line Durin. I am traveling with my friends and family to...places…" she trailed off. She didn't know why, but she felt like she shouldn't tell these elves why they were actually trespassing across Mirkwood. Somehow, telling them that they planned to wake a sleeping dragon and unleash fiery death to reclaim a hoard of gold and a lost kingdom might not go over very well.

Luckily for her, Thranduil had stopped listening after Durin. Even Legolas had paused to look at her strangely.

"Well, well. This is very interesting. Ciranel...really. Hm, I don't remember her." the King murmured to himself. "Intruiging. A half breed girl, and of two noble lines. Yes, this is indeed very interesting. And you said you were going where?" Linnor said nothing. "Very well." He remained silent again for quite some time until a lilting melody began to drift down from somewhere above them.

"Ah, Legolas. The party seems to have begun without us." Thranduil finally turned and made his way to a far platform staircase, probably leading to the upper levels. "Take Linnor to a chamber. That is where you will stay, my dear, until I decide what to do with you and the company you keep." And with that he was gone.

Linnor stood frozen still. What did he mean by "decide what to do with?" How long would they be prisoners here? They would miss Durin's Day, and the last chance to open the door to the mountain! She felt a light grip on her elbow as her false bravery faded and her head became light.

"Come. There is something I wish to show you before you sleep." Legolas guided her in the opposite way as his father and up onto a different stair, her mind still fuzzy. After a moment, she regained her composure and yanked her arm away from her companion in annoyance.

"You lied to me. You didn't tell me you were a Prince." Linnor groused.

"You never told me you were a Princess."

'That's different."

"Is it really?"

"Well...alright fine. But it would have been nice to know, since I was so forthcoming with you already."

"I did save your life."

"Where are you even taking me?"

"Relax, Linnor. You've already been taken captive. There isn't much more you need to worry about from me. Besides, we're here."

Linnor gave a small gasp as she looked out above her. They were at the top of a canopy. Below her were twinkling lights and the vague but beautiful sounds of a lively party. But above, millions of bright stars glittered the dark sky, a huge silver-white moon hanging in the middle.

"This...is amazing. How...how have I never seen this? Even from my window back in Rivendell, surely I would have seen this?" she murmured. Linnor felt Legolas press closely behind her and was grateful for the darkness hiding her blush.

"The world is a big place, My Lady. If you don't go out and take it, there is so much you will miss."

It was quiet again, and Linnor felt a peace she hadn't felt in what seemed like a long while.

 _"I regret every single day I  
waited for the world to be mine  
Look to the sky we're reaching higher than high  
Mile after mile_

 _We're all made of stars  
We're all made of dreams  
Just use your spirit and heart  
You can go where you want, do what you like  
Be who you want to be..." _

She ended in a whisper. She kept her eyes focused on the sight in the stars, so she missed the look that passed over the blond elf's face once again.

"This way, now."

Linnor shyly followed him away from the balcony and into a dim, lantern hallway, all sense of irritation gone. Soon, they found themselves back near the cells where the company was held.

"LINNOR! Thank Mahal, where have you been?"

"Let her go!"

"Where are you taking her?"

"Linnor, what's going on?"

Their cries and calls went unanswered, mainly because Linnor simply couldn't give one that would satisfy them all. They wouldn't understand. She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she passed before turning the corner. Legolas paused at a beech wood door.

"Here is where you stay. The door will be locked from the outside at night, and will be opened again in the morning. Until my father makes a decision, you are not to leave the room without an escort, who will not hesitate to move you to a cell just like your kin if you try to escape or help any of them out of their cells. You are an elf, even in part, which means you obey the covenant of our kingdom and ruling just like in Imladris. Understood? Good. Sleep well, Linnor Alea Sathren Durin."

Linnor stepped into her room, affronted at the cold goodbye. She looked around at her new lodgings. The room was lavishly decorated and comfy and delicate in the sense that this had once been a young girls room. It seemed pleasant enough, and it would have been had she been there under any other circumstances. She heard the door lock behind her and sighed. Where was Gandalf when you needed him?


	22. Chapter 22: Alone

**A/N: So I am home sick, which means more time to update stories! Yay! Anyway, I don't really have anything else to say, so as a dicsclaimer, I don't own anything except Linnor. The song below if No One Is Alone from Into The Woods. And please review!**

* * *

Linnor walked down the stone steps to the prison cells, as she did every day since they came into the Mirkwood realm. She had lost count of how long they had been held there in the palace. Each day was like the last: an armed guard woke her up every morning and delivered breakfast, a lady gave her new clothes to wear, and she would be escorted around the palace by Legolas or another of the king's men. Some days, she would join the court in their gatherings and parties, or join Legolas in roaming the many halls and branches of the palace. But no matter what, everyday, she would visit the rest of the company and sit for hours by her uncle's cell. And then the next day would start, and the next, and the next. Durin's Day was getting closer, and the mountain still remained leagues and leagues away.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at the rows of cell doors. Balin's was closest, and Thorin's at the far end, near the steps to the throne platform. The rest were scattered in between. Linnor spent days alternating cells, talking to her friends and family. They told her how she was their last hope, being free. But she wasn't really. It was her own personal prison, one she had a feeling Legolas had a hand in arranging. They didn't know it, but she was trapped right along with them on the outside of a cell door.

Today she sat by Kili, who was busy tossing a stone and catching it to pass the time. He and Fili had been separated, and it was clear that Kili was beyond bored. His brother was six cells over, and she would often pass messages between the two and the nervousness the two had at being separated was heartbreaking. But as bored as he was, it was obvious Kili was getting seriously annoyed at the standstill, and the resembkance to is uncle's current growling mood was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost.

"And how is the Lady this fine morn?" her cousin mocked.

"Shut up." She sneered and rolled her eyes as she leaned against the stone wall. "What even is that? A "

Kili halted his game and looked over at the young girl. No one had asked her real age, but nonetheless it didn't take a genius to see she was still, at the very least, a teenager, hardly an adult on any scale of age. For elves, even a millennium was a short time in their lives. Dwarves also aged very slowly, as Kili was, himself, still a child.

"It's a rune stone. A promise I made." he replied, moving closer to the metal bars that separated them. If he strained, he could just make out his uncle all the way to the left, listening, and his brother to the right, trying to look like he wasn't listening.

"A promise to who? Thorin?"

"My mother. I promised to return to her after we reclaim our home." Kili spoke quietly. His uncle and brother didn't know his promise to his mother, Dis. It was a sensitive subject, their family, and even with the happy memories, it usually ended in anger and Thorin going off to brood.

Linnor scooted closer to where Kili leaned against the metal worked bars.

"I always wanted a mother." she whispered. "I spent a lifetime wishing and hoping someone would break into my solitude, but the only one who ever came was Faolan. I had no one for the longest time until you guys."

It seemed for that moment, the whole woodland was quiet. Then, a soft baritone echoed off the dark oak.

" _Mother cannot guide you_  
 _Now you're all alone._  
 _Only me beside you_  
 _Still you're not alone_  
 _No one is alone, truly_  
 _No one is alone"_

Kili's voice was soft and gentle, which was surprising for someone so usually rambunctious. Linnor smiled to herself as he continued, oblivious to listeners other than his cousin beside him. Sometimes it was nice to let others do the singing. It wasn't often she could just sit and listen.

 _"Sometimes people leave you_  
 _halfway through the wood._  
 _Others may deceive you,_  
 _You decide what's good._  
 _You decide alone..._  
 _But no one is alone"_

"I wish..." Linnor started, when Kili touched her hand.

"I know."

 _"Mother isn't here now."_

To the right, a deeper bass joined in.

 _"Wrong things, right things."_

Kili kept going with the melody as members of the company interjected underneath.

 _"Who knows what she'd say?"_

This time it was Ori.

" _Who can say what's true?"_

And Kili again.

 _"Nothing's quite so clear now..."_

And Thorin from the left.

 _"Do things, fight things."_

And Kili again...

 _"Feel you've lost your way?_  
 _You decide but..."_

And suddenly the whole tree lined cavern was filled with deep sound of a single song. Linnor was hardly aware of the tear slowly streaking its way down her cheek.

 _"You are not alone..._  
 _You are not alone, believe me_  
 _No one is alone...no one is alone_  
 _Believe me, truly_

 _"You move just a finger_  
 _Say the slightest word_  
 _Something's bound to linger_  
 _Be heard."_  
 _No one acts alone...careful_  
 _No one is alone"_

 _"Someone is on your side...our side_  
 _Someone else is not._  
 _While we're seeing our side...our side_  
 _Maybe we forgot._  
 _They are not alone..._  
 _No one is alone..."_

 _"Someone is on your side._  
 _No one is alone."_

The singing faded into an echo, and they rested back against their stone walls in the silence.

"Now that was very good and all," said a voice, making Linnor near jump out of her skin. "But I do believe we have somewhere to be. Or was all that talk of Erebor just a travel tale? If you'd like you can stay and sing for the elves, though of course they hardly need the entertainment. Point is-"

There was a pop and a flash and then suddenly, a small man in a red overcoat and rather curly hair stood before them with a set of golden keys.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service. Let's get you out of here."


	23. Chapter 23: A Heart Torn

**A/N: Here is the next chapter! I don't own anything except Linnor. The song below is What You Mean To Me from the Broadway show Finding Neverland as sung by Jennifer Lopez. This was one of my favorite chapters to write, so please review!**

Linnor hurried down the steps to the cellar after her friends. Bilbo claimed he had found a way out without going through the main gate or alerting the guards. Quietly they moved past stairwells and balconies, the distant sound of music and laughter lilting from high above. A sharp pang went through Linnor as she remembered, that first night, walking high up into the stars with Legolas. Despite everything, he had been kind to her, prisoner as she was. He had sincerely treated her like a princess, like an equal, and she had found herself enjoying some of the time she spent here in Mirkwood. And now he wouldn't even get a goodbye. He deserved that much, didn't he? Her head and heart seemed to be in constant conflict.

Bilbo ushered them into a wine cellar, where a large stack of empty barrels lay ready for shipment downriver.

"Quick, into a barrel."

After a moment of hesitation, and with a fair amount of grumbling, the company began to crouch into one of the empty barrels. Thorin pushed Kili and Fili into their own before turning to Linnor. But before she could make a move, voices flowed from the stair above.

"Someone's coming!" Linnor hissed, her heart pounding as the voices came closer. "Get into a barrel. If the moment comes, take it and go. I will catch up." Linnor whirled back around and started to make her way up the stairs again.

"Linnor-" her uncle called her name. Bilbo had already disappeared and Thorin was left, one leg in his own escape.

She smiled reassuringly. "I promise, Uncle. I will find you again. Now go!"

Linnor hiked up her thin dress and bounded the steps. The voices were getting louder and clearer, and with a jolt, she heard one she recognized. She had barely reached the top of the platforms when the elves turned the corner, stopping when they saw her.

"Linnor." Legolas stepped away from the guard with a small look of confusion. "What are you doing in this part of the palace? You are a good distance from your room and from the cells of your kin. Are you alright?" His clear blue eyes seemed to look right into her heart, and for a minute Linnor thought she was going to lose her composure and ruin any chance her friends and family had of getting away. There was something about this elf that almost compelled her to confess her heart.

"I was looking for you." Linnor didn't know what had made her say that, and at the look on Legolas's face made her all the more nervous. After a brief moment, the blonde elf gave a dismissive nod to the elf behind him, leaving the two of them alone.

"And now that you have found me?" Legolas started walking, and Linnor took next to him. The only sound was a faint echo of the party somewhere in the branches, and Linnor felt herself almost at ease with this young prince as they walked side by side.

 _They haven't noticed them missing yet._

She remained quiet as he led her to a balcony facing the outer woods. It was high in the branches of a strong oak, the river winding down below them. Linnor could catch glimpses of it between the trunks of the trees that lined the banks, and a little further off, a guard post.

"I wanted..." she started, then stopped. She had no idea what to say. Just saying goodbye wasn't good enough, nor could she if she wanted to for fear of raising alarm. And her feelings were still to jumbled for her to properly express anything. Oh this was going badly.

"Linnor..." Legolas's voice was soft as he turned to face her.

He reached out a slender hand and brushed her cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as he did so. Linnor could feel her heart speed up, and her breath caught in her throat. Legolas took a step closer to her until they were barely an inch apart. Linnor caught his hand and held to her cheek, closing her eyes, for fear he saw the tears that had started to form. When she opened them, Legolas's ice eyes were peering at her in concern. And in that moment Linnor knew exactly what she had to say.

 _"Standing here_  
 _All at once_  
 _All the words_  
 _Run dry_  
 _Something's changed_  
 _Can't explain_  
 _And I can't deny_  
 _Turning in circles_  
 _And blurring the lights of the unspoken is calling us tonight_

 _I won't lie_  
 _I'm a little bit frightened_  
 _My imagination_  
 _I swear I'll try_  
 _Cause I'm feeling enlightened_  
 _My inspiration_  
 _We can fly if we want to_  
 _I promise your faith will give you wings_  
 _Just take the second star on the right_  
 _Straight ahead to the morning light"_

Linnor took a nervous breath, her eyes once again closed, afraid of what she'd see, when a soft whisper took over her melody, and she opened her eyes to see the beautiful elf singing to her.

 _"Close your eyes_  
 _Will your dream?_  
 _That's where I will be_  
 _Say it's true_  
 _Yeah you do_  
 _Say you do believe_  
 _The prayers and measures_  
 _All waiting for patience_  
 _The angels are calling us tonight_

 _I won't lie_  
 _I'm a little bit frightened_  
 _My imagination_  
 _I swear I'll try_  
 _Cause I'm feeling enlightened_  
 _My inspiration_  
 _We can fly if we want to_  
 _I promise your faith will give you wings_  
 _Just take the second star on the right_  
 _Straight ahead to the morning light"_

Once again, Linnor realized her face was wet from tears. She had hoped and hoped he understood and now, if she understood, then he really and truly did. Her heart felt as though it might burst. And then they were both singing, her voice full of emotion.

" _Every shape and all the colors_  
 _All the love from all the lovers_  
 _Never could express just what you mean to me_  
 _Every word and every sentence doesn't seem to make a difference_  
 _Never could express just what you mean to me_

 _I won't lie_  
 _I'm a little bit frightened_  
 _My imagination_  
 _I swear I'll try_  
 _Cause I'm feeling enlightened_  
 _My inspiration_  
 _We can fly if we want to_  
 _I promise your faith will give you wings_  
 _Just take the second star on the right_  
 _Straight ahead to the morning light"_

Their voices faded to whispers and they looked at each other. Legolas tenderly wiped a trailing tear from her cheek.

"Linnor...you are unlike any maiden I have ever known. Your are fierce and loyal and your voice...and beautiful cannot begin to describe...I cannot even begin..." Linnor hushed the elf with a small smile, her fingers trailing on his cheek.

"I know. Believe me, I know. Legolas..."

She leaned in, eyes fluttering, lips parted. Legolas moved his hands to her waist to bring her closer to him. Linnor felt her heart quicken as he leaned down towards her, and she let her eyelids close as she moved to meet him.

Suddenly, a horn blared, the shrill sound cutting through the peace like a sword, and startling the two apart, hearts beating hard, Linnor's feeling like a shard of glass had ripped hers open. Behind her she could guards yelling in quick elvish, but she knew what they were saying. Someone had finally checked the cells. Legolas looked back the way they had came in confusion.

"Stay here. Please, Linnor, I will be right back." Legolas squeezed her hand affectionately before running off.

Linnor watched him go before turning to the edge of the balcony. Down below her she could see the rush of the river, and now there were barrels riding the current. Taking a deep breath, Linnor climbed until she was balanced on the railing, a soft breeze rustling her hair.

"I'm sorry Legolas."

And she jumped.


	24. Chapter 24: Stronger

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the kind reviews and almost 50 follows! I'm very excited right now! Wow! In response to all this excitement, I just had to post the next chapter, which features the song Stronger by Kieza. I do not own it, nor do I own the Hobbit and such. Thanks again, and please, keep those reviews coming!**

* * *

Linnor landed lightly on the thick leaves below the balcony and took off running. The river was further off than she had seen from high up, but she could hear the rushing water and Thorin's roaring voice. The barrels had hit the current and were headed for the guard post downstream, and that's the way Linnor started.

Her heart thudded in her chest, even though she was barely exerting herself as she dodged trees and limbs. What had almost happened? She almost kissed him! Were they really about to-nope. Not the time. Linnor pushed the swirling thoughts and emotions to the back of her mind for later. Right now she had to make it to her floating company. The barrels were approaching the guard station quickly, and the elves positioned there were already closing the gates to the river. In the next few minutes, the barrels would crash right into it, leaving the dwarves and herself to be recaptured by the pursuing-

Linnor stopped running, just at the edge of the trees, right before the water line of the river, in between the stone post and the oncoming barrels. Something wasn't right. It was too quiet. The alarm had sounded, she had heard it herself, it was why Legolas had left before-well, nothing happened. She had assumed the alarm was for the escaped fugitives, but if that was the case then there ought to have been more than four elves in wait. 13 could easily take on four, even without weapons, no matter the breed. Linnor remembered back to her life in Imladris, when she would watch from her window all the elves racing from the gates to capture detainees for questioning by Elrond. The only times she saw a split guard, or a lack of one around the palace was when-

She raced to the waterline, just meeting the wave of barrels as they rolled past.

"LINNOR!" her uncle's voice was drowned out over the rushing water.

"ORCS!"

Her scream was drowned out as a terrible, wet snarl ripped through the air, followed by a deep, threatening horn. There was a sharp cry and Linnor turned just in time to see one of the elf guards topple over the wall, a thin jagged arrow piercing his neck.

The barrels crashed into the metal gates just as the monsters barreled through the trees. At first Linnor thought that that was it and she relaxed. But a chilling fear seemed to paralyze her as the orcs took the elves down with terrifying ease, and the next wave marched through with calm surety. This wave went straight for the dwarves (and hobbit) in the water, who, with no weapons and confined to the barrels, were easy targets. Linnor watched in shock as her family beat off the oncoming hoard, taking their weapons and using those to defend off the next. Growls and shouts mingled with the clash of metal and twang of bows, with the occasional splash of another body hitting the water, the orc blood staining the clear blue deep black. She was so focused on the chaos in front of her that it took her a moment to register the danger for herself.

A deep-throated rumble rose from behind her and Linnor whirled around to see a nasty, disfigured beast breaking through the trees with a sickly grin. Linnor shrieked just as someone bellowed her name.

"LINNOR!" Dwalin heaved a black, stained broadsword out of the water towards her.

Reacting purely on what she could only assume was instinct, Linnor darted forward to catch the heavy sword before swinging it around in an upwards arc, effectively slitting her attacker's throat. blood spattering her chest and face.

Breathing hard, Linnor looked down at the sword in her hand, caked with the tar of blood. This was new, this was very new, this feeling of...excitement. Her adrenalin was high, pulse racing, but her feet were steady. She felt like she could do anything; there was this energy like a sun inside her. Linnor swung the blade in a big arc. More than that, though, it was the feeling of the weapon itself in her hand. Just like singing, it actually felt a part of herself, a hidden talent just waiting to come out. And this time the idea didn't sicken her: it thrilled her! Here was something she shared with her family other than blood.

Another snarl leapt up from the trees, but this time Linnor was ready. This time, the orc swung at her with a mace on a long chain. Once again, the feeling of instinct took over and Linnor let it ride through her. The mace came down swiftly and Linnor let it get close before rolling to the side, delivering a quick but deep stab through the vile thing's chest. Terrified as she was, fighting somehow fueled her energy instead of depleting it.

" _I think I might actually be enjoying this more than singing."_ she grinned to herself as she headed back to the stone guard station to help her company.

Strange enough, as soon as she thought that, a melody began floating through her mind. This song was different, however, than what she normally sung. This was pounding, deeper, more controlled, and almost dark. It pulsed a beat and as the words came to her, Linnor found herself determined to fight harder.

" _Through the darkest place  
The faintest light  
Oh it gave me hope  
To face my fight  
Pain delivered me  
I don't need their sympathy_

No they can't take away my pride  
Where I go they will never find."

Linnor found herself at the foot of the stairs up to the guard spot. There was a thick tree branch acting as lever to the gates. If she could just-

Another horn sounded, and for a moment Linnor froze at the prospect of more orcs. But this horn was somehow familiar...A loud shriek shattered her ears and Linnor turned to face the grim, decayed face of an orc. An arrow protruded from the center of his forehead, and its eyes were large and glassy. As the thing fell to the water, the horn resounded, and Linnor saw glints of green, brown and gold: elves. As the cavalry swooped in, one face stood out. Of course.

He was looking at her with a mix of betrayal, anger, and hurt. Her heart ached as his eyes seemed to reflect back the fire in her veins. With a sharp look of something she couldn't place, her turned away, drawing another arrow to his bow.

A hand suddenly gripped her arm and Linnor sharply swung the broadsword in a low, chest swipe, nearly slicing her cousin open.

"Careful! Swing with purpose not panic!" Kili yelped. "I need you to cover me, alright? I'm going to release the gates. As soon as that happens, you're going to need to jump. Aim for an open barrel, or open water, and grab hold."

Linnor gave a swift nod of understanding as her cousin turned to fight his way up. The music came back, but the beat had changed. Linnor let it guide her as she watched her cousin move.

 _"I feel stronger  
Bigger  
I feel taller  
So much higher  
Feel enlightened, can't be frightened  
Anymore  
I can run now, so much faster  
And defeat won't be my master  
And to conquer the demons I won't have to wait much longer  
I am stronger."_

Linnor turned back from decapitating an orc to check on Kili when she saw it. It was tall, with pale, greyish skin streaked with scars. Its eyes were narrow and its armor was sharp and tendriled sporadically across it's chest. In its grip it held a sleek bow nocked with a black tipped arrow.

"NO!"

Her cry of warning came tinged with the twang of the bow, spiraling as Kili made a mad dash to the lever. Then-a small gasp, Kili's face went blank, pain not yet registering with the arrow sticking out of his leg. All at once, Kili, collapsed with a solid thud, a clenched yell of pain escaping his lips.

"KILI!"

Fili's scream was tainted with panic for his younger brother, but it faded into white noise. Linnor felt trapped, stuck staring at her cousin's body tight with agony at her feet, only inches from releasing the barrels and their kin to open water. The arrow stuck straight up like a red flag.

It was like looking down a long tunnel. Black crept along the edge of her vision. She felt her breathing speed up, her heart pounding like the drum to the music, now like a chant, still demanding in her mind. She closed her eyes.

 _"I am stronger, bigger  
I am taller, so much higher  
Feel enlightened, can't be frightened anymore  
I can run now, so much faster  
And defeat won't be my master  
And to conquer the demons I won't have to wait much longer  
I AM STRONGER!"_

Her eyes shot open, blazing with rage. A low, bloodcurdling primal yell bellowed out of her, and for a brief second the chaos around her stilled. Then Linnor went into a frenzy. Her sword whipped around, sending bodies into the water one after another. The blackness still circled her sight, but she used it instead to focus on her targets.

There was a sudden wrenching sound of metal and Linnor turned quickly to see Kili using his body weight to bring the lever down. The gates swung open and in a flash the barrels whipped downriver to faster currents.

"Linnor!"

Kili. Linnor hurried to the edge where he was standing.

"Get ready." he hissed, eyes barely open.

"KILI!" his brother yelled from below.

The barrels were moving quickly now. Kili gave her an encouraging smile before falling into an empty barrel. A sickening crack shot through the air as the arrow shaft hit the rim, but Kili's scream was lost on the yells for her to jump from the others. Linnor frantically searched for open water when a flash caught the corner of her eye. Silver hair reflecting sunlight.

Legolas perched, one foot up the stairs, his blue eyes searching as they met hers.

 _"I got to be stronger."_

"Linnor...please..."

His voice was soft, and it warred desperately with the echo in her skull.

 _"I need to be stronger."_

"LINNOR!"

This came from below. Almost all the barrels were through the gate...

"Linnor..." Legolas looked so hurt. She had said things, done things, felt things no one else had ever made her before. Because of him. All those feelings she had pushed away came rushing back to the front of her mind, giving her an odd sense of clarity, if only for a moment.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes widened just slightly as she leaned forward.

"I love you." she whispered.

"No...LINNOR! WAIT!"

She dropped into the freezing water, grabbing hold of the last barrel before the river whisked it away, chased by arrows, orcs, and the sound of her name.


	25. Chapter 25: Laketown and Beyond

**A/N: And I have reached over 50 followers! You guys are awesome, and such awesomeness must be rewarded with another chapter! Please keep reviewing and telling me your thoughts as I go along. I'm so excited! Thanks and continue!**

 **Disclaimer: I own none of the Hobbit.**

The barrels finally slowed down, miles from the Mirkwood borders. They came up slowly on a rocky river bed and soon they were all awkwardly swimming to solid land. The dwarfs stumbled wetly out onto the shore banks, battered from the rocks and the battle with the orcs, who had chased them downriver up until a mile or so ago. Many were sporting good sized scrapes and bruises. Linnor herself hadn't been hurt in the fight, but by the aches in her sides from the water ride, she was going to be pretty bruised by morning.

The girl watched the others stagger to some of the larger boulders lining this area and lean against them, weary and hoping to catch some of the sun's slim rays of warmth. Linnor watched Thorin help his nephews out of their barrels before going to check on Bilbo and the others.

Kili sat down gingerly and held his leg. There was blood mixing with water as it trailed down his cuff, and Linnor had to hold back a gasp when she saw the wound. A part of the arrow shaft was still embedded into his leg, giving the whole thing a black tinge, his blood like tar. Kili's face was scrunched in pain, hissing as he pulled the last insulting arrow shard out of his leg, freeing the blood flow.

"Fili."

Her elder cousin looked over at her, he being busy with wringing the water from his mustache and checking his soggy boots for spare throwing knives. At the sound of her voice, though, he paused and glanced to where she was, his eyes falling on his brother. Quickly and quietly he hurried to his side to assess the damage done. Thorin was in the middle of talking about the next step when Fili called out.

"Thorin, Kili's wounded."

At that, all the dwarves looked over at the lad anxiously. Linnor was sure Kili would have been angry and embarrassed if he hadn't been in so much pain. As she looked over again to her uncle, for a brief moment Linnor saw something in his eyes, something like panic and fear. For a second, she saw a glimpse of the dwarf he might have been to his young nephews as they grew up. But quick as it came, it went, and he was back to being authoritative King Under The Mountain.

"His leg is wounded, it needs to be binded." Fili continued.

As he spoke, Fili ripped a length of his tunic into shreds and started to bandage Kili's leg. Linnor felt slightly sick as she watched FIli work, his brow knitted in concentration. They all had gone through so much since she had joined them in Rivendell: orcs, goblins, been held prisoner, rode eagles, fought spiders, and all without a single scratch. Kili's wound was the most serious she had seen this trip and his pain was intense. The wound was not yet an hour old and already it looked a faded grey, which Linnor could only assume was not good. Faintly, She heard Oin tell Thorin that he would have a look when they reached a safe point near the mountain.

 _If Kili even has that long._ She thought bitterly.

"We need to keep moving." Thorin barked, hiding his concern for the youngest member behind his stone features.

"To where exactly?" Linnor's voice rang with exhaustion, reminding them all of the battle they had just escaped from and the pack of orcs and elves that were trailing them swiftly.

"The Mountain, of course." Bilbo piped up, his curly hair plastered to his forehead. "We're so close."

"A lake lies between us and that mountain, and we've no way to cross it." Balin interrupted the hobbit, reveling in his knowledge of the area. His days of studying maps of Middle-Earth being put to good use at last (not that the old dwarf didn't still know how to swing a blade.)

"So we go around." Linnor tried to stay cheerful. She did not come all this way just to give up and be slaughtered by orcs. But hopefully they could rest and dry out first...walking all that way in damp boots was going to be torture, and that was one thing she did not wish to experience on this trip.

"The orcs will run us down as sure as daylight." Dwalin griped, casting a dark look at Thorin. "And we've no more weapons to defend ourselves."

Thorin's eyes seemed to blacken and his face was gaunt. He cast an angry glance at his two nephews, but Linnor knew there was worry buried deep beneath it.

"Bind it strong. You have two minutes, all of you. Gather what you can, do what you need. Then we move."

The dwarves scrambled about, trying to find slim slivers of sunlight in the hopes of getting warm or dry in any place. Ori was dumping water out of his boots at the edge of the shoreline. Fili and Kili were still working on his leg, and Linnor sat huddled into her self, watching the rest stretch.

Suddenly her eyes widened. Someone was climbing the high rock, right behind Ori. His figure was paled out by the sun, but she could see that he was tall, stockly built, and carrying a bow, which was poised and taught, aiming right at the oblivious dwarf.

'"Dwalin." she hissed, causing the temperamental dwarf to turn with a snarl before he saw what it was. Quick and sharp, he grabbed a large piece of driftwood and jumped in front of the new enemy with a low challenging growl, causing all the dwarves to stand at alert. Dwalin moved forward but before he got anywhere and arrow let fly and lodged into the stick. The others moved into action. Kili hefted a large stone to throw but another arrow caught it right out of his hand, and everyone froze in fear.

If Linnor hadn't been frozen with shock, she probably would have laughed at his expression.

"Do it again...and you're dead." the Man said softly, pulling another arrow at the ready.

Nobody moved. The sunlight was faded now and they could see the Man quite clearly. He had dark tussled hair that hung gently around his face. His eyes were bright and glinted with mistrust as he surveyed the company. His clothes were tan and well worn, broken in by weather, and a small green-silver quiver was strung across his back.

"Excuse me."

Balin was the first to hesitantly speak, his hands raised in a show of the lack of defense. Still, the Man drew his bow taught and did not relax.

"You're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken." Balin stated, clearly knowing he wasn't. "That barge over there..." he nodded his head upriver, where there was a low, flat raft holding their discarded barrels. He must have been collecting them when he spotted the dwarves and decided to investigate.

 _Rob us or kill us more likely._ Linnor thought with only slight disgust. There had been a time when she might have done the same.

"It wouldn't be available for hire by any chance?"

The Man lowered his weapon...and turned away. The dwarves looked at each other in surprise before scurrying after him. That barge may well be their only way into Laketown...and beyond. When they all caught up to him, the Man was busy finishing loading the barrels and other supplies onto his barge.

"Now wait just a moment-" Oin panted.

"What makes you think I would help you." he said bluntly as they caught up. Linnor remained near the back.

"Your boat has seen better days." Balin was using a kind, condescending tone that elders tended to use when trying to explain an obvious benefit. "As has that coat. No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed."

The Man hardly slowed his work.

"How many?"

At this, he paused to give Balin a tired glare, but even from far back Linnor could see the small amount of love and pride he had when talking of his children.

"A boy and two girls."

"And your wife, I imagine, is a beauty."

Linnor couldn't see his expression. He had paused again, his back to the dwarves. She slowly moved past the few that were in front of her to stand closer.

"Aye. She was."

Linnor closed her eyes in sadness. Balin was clearly taken aback as well and fumbled over his mistake. The Man still didn't turn back around, but gazed intently over the water.

"I'm sorry."

It was not Balin who spoke out this time, but Linnor. The Man whirled around at the sound of her voice, his eyes wide with surprise as he took her in. The way he was looking at her...she wondered what his daughters looked like.

"I know what it's like, to lose someone you love. To grow up without a mother. I know how lonely it can be." Linnor confessed.

No one behind her spoke and she and this stranger locked eyes. It felt to her like he was searching for something, the truth maybe, in her eyes, like he wasn't sure if she really understood.

"I want to know who you are, and what you are doing in these lands." he said softly.

Linnor gave a small smile and shook her head.

"Please. Help us. We can pay you. We just need to get across Laketown. And we'll be gone, with nothing to you. Now, will you help us?" she pleaded.

The Man sighed and closed his eyes.

"Aye. I will help you."


	26. Chapter 26: Fighting Girl

**A/N: Two updates in one day! I really am spoiling you guys. But I just got into this groove with writing and voila, a new chapter for you all to enjoy! The song is Fight Song by Rachel Platten. A few lyrics have been altered to fit the scene, however the song itself still DOES NOT belong to me. Nor does the Hobbit or anything from the world created by Tolkien. Now, read on, my faithful followers! And review please!**

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Linnor shifted uncomfortably against the rotting wood of the barge as they set off from the shore. The Man, Bard, he said his name was, had relented and offered them passage to Laketown, a town Linnor had gathered was right across from the shoreline edge of Dale, the city of the gates to Erebor. Linnor could see Thorin's dark eyes from where she squatted and for a second a twinge of fear nudged at the back of her mind. Just as quickly, she pushed it away.

"It's just a scratch, Fili, I'm fine."

An annoyed grumble to her left attracted her attention from her uncle to her cousin. Kili was curled in on himself, his bandaged leg clutched gingerly in front of him, his brother leaning anxiously into his face, nearly making her smile at the familial closeness of it: Kili, like a large toddler and Fili, like a mother hen.

"A scratch? Kili, that's an orc wound. You really should have Oin take a look at it."

Linnor silently watched the two brothers bicker back and forth over Kili's health with a sort of distant interest. Once again, there was this feeling, like she was watching something fade out, something she had missed but never really quite had in the first place. It wasn't a happy feeling, and she decided to push it away as well.

The boat shifted around another set of grey rocks and another piece of the barge seemed to lodge itself into her back. Irritated, Linnor stood up instead and stretched. Some of the others were crouched low, murmuring plans and evasive routes to get through the town without being spotted by some of the less friendly eyes. Thorin was standing gloomily up at the helm, and Bilbo and Balin were crouched down at Bard's feet, trying to make pleasant conversation as he steered.

"So you said you had children, eh?" Balin's tone was pleasant enough, but a little strained at the cold figure above him. "What are they again? Boys, girls?"

"One boy and two girls. Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda." Bard's voice clearly softened when he spoke about his little ones, as Linnor supposed any parents might. It was similar to how Thorin spoke to his nephews in one of the quieter times.

Linnor stepped over the hobbit, gazing solemnly out over the foggy moor, and sat directly behind Bard, a clear view of the entire barge. The Man gave a sharp glance down at her before staring straight ahead again.

"You know," Linnor started, "you can ask me."

Bard didn't look down, but she knew he had heard her.

"Ask you what."

"Whatever it is you've been wanting to say since you saw me at the shore not an hour ago."

Bard sighed and for a moment Linnor could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile on his face, and she felt oddly accomplished.

"You are not dwarfish are you, milady?"

Linnor was surprised at the question and briefly she considered lying to the man. But in a bout of faith, Linnor decided on the truth. Or part of it anyway.

"No, not fully. Half. I'm traveling with my kin here. But if you're asking was I raised as a dwarf, well the answer in no, I was not." There, short and sweet.

Bard gave a sharp laugh. "Clearly. You're much cleaner, more civilized and much more polite. You've got a sort of elvish cast about you, or human at least, if I had to guess at any rate. Half a dwarf, eh? Valar take me, now I've seen everything."

Thorin's gaze snapped to Bard with a cold fury. The others of the company looked up in hesitant shock.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" his voice was chilling, a deep rumble veiling terrible fury.

Bard must have known he had unintentionally hit a nerve, for he coolly backtracked his words, his expression a clean mask of indifference to the crowd of offended dwarfs (plus one very confused hobbit).

"I meant nothing by it. An observation if you will. And I don't recall talking to you, Master Dwarf, but to the young lady, whose name I don't think I caught." he looked down at her pointedly.

"Alea. Alea Sathren."

Linnor had no idea why she said her middle name instead of her given one, but in that instant something had blared in her mind, a warning bell, and she had said the closest thing to the truth without actually spilling a secret that was not hers to tell. Linnor saw more glances from the others (a bit of surprise, confusion, and… was that hurt from the brothers?) but kept her gaze set on vague shapes drifting pass them in the fog.

"Well, Alea, it certainly is a pleasure to meet such a gem. Tell me, what are you doing with along here with this bunch? Kin, you said? But so far from the mountains...what purposes have you crossing into Laketown? You carry no bags, no possible trade. You hide whispers and secrets and bartered a man and his barge as transport. It makes one wonder of the lies one will tell to delve deep into darkness."

Bard's tone had become sharper and nastier to Linnor's ears, no longer kind and set. His tone implied he was fishing for information for reasons she wasn't privy to. His eyes flashed a gleam that made Linnor a little wary of this Man she had only just met, a clear stranger. But that's just what they were, weren't they? So maybe he had a right to know something...?

One look at Thorin and that line of thinking was killed. He looked every bit distrusting and the others had gathered at the other end by the barrels in a tight knit, leaving only Linnor and Bilbo by the steering rod with Bard.

"I don't know," Dwalin spoke this time, his stance defensive, "if I like what you're asking."

Bard glared right back, unafraid.

"I'm only observing things I know nothing about. Bedraggled dwarves wash up on the shoreline with a rumpled Halfling a world away from his hole and a girl who looks like she should be selling wares in a marketplace."

At that, Linnor stiffened.

"I beg your pardon?"

Bard clearly wasn't expecting her to speak, for her looked down at her again with a hint of surprise written on his face.

"You can expect me to believe that you're a warrior like these barbarians? You could be my daughter, Sigrid, and not much older, and she's a weaver. You dress like a maiden whose been for a stroll in the woods, or frankly, a swim in the river. Forgive me, but you don't look much like a threat. Which is why I ask, what in Middle Earth could you be doing with this lot, kin or no?"

Linnor stood in a fluid motion, her body stiff with anger. In her mind, she was back in the Mirkwood trees, borrowed axe in hand, slicing through orcs like child's play, a feeling of exhilaration coursing through her where once it had made her stomach empty. How dare he tell her she was not a fighter! She was a Durin, and they were warriors, and by her blood, she was one as well.

 _"Like a small boat_  
 _On the ocean_  
 _Sending big waves_  
 _Into motion_  
 _Like how a single word_  
 _Can make a heart open_  
 _I might only have one match_  
 _But I can make an explosion"_

The melody came out strong and clear, even though Linnor was shaking. Or was that the barge as they turned another jutting rock. Bard was watching her curiously, as well as the others she could feel behind her.

 _"And all those things I didn't say_  
 _Forging hammers inside my brain_  
 _I will scream them loud tonight_  
 _Can you hear my voice this time?_

 _This is my fight song_  
 _Take back my life song_  
 _Prove I'm alright song_  
 _My power's turned on_  
 _Starting right now I'll be strong_  
 _I'll sing my fight song_  
 _And I don't really care if nobody else believes_  
 _'Cause I've have got a lot of fight inside of me"_

Linnor felt the barge lurch again, but she kept her feet, her eyes blazing at the Man before her. She was, and had never been, nobody's daughter. She was a descendent, a cousin, an heiress, a niece, a singer, an elf, a dwarf, but nobody's daughter, and certainly not this Man's. A weaver? Linnor remembered with a faint light of her room back in Rivendell and telling Faolan about her dreams of adventures, of jumping out her room to the garden.

 _"Losing friends and I'm chasing sleep_

 _Everybody's worried about me_  
 _In too deep_  
 _Say I'm in too deep_  
 _And it's been twelve weeks I miss my home_  
 _But there's a fire burning in my bones_  
 _Still believe_  
 _Yeah, I still believe_

 _And all those things I didn't say_  
 _Forging hammers inside my brain_  
 _I will scream them loud tonight_  
 _Can you hear my voice this time?"_

She was Linnor Alea Sathren Durin, adventurer, princess, warrior, and a survivor of hell.

 _This is my fight song_  
 _Take back my life song_  
 _Prove I'm alright song_  
 _My power's turned on_  
 _Starting right now I'll be strong_  
 _I'll sing my fight song_  
 _And I don't really care if nobody else believes_  
 _'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me_

Linnor paused for a moment, breathing heavily. No one had moved other than Bard to guide the boat, but even he was motionless besides. The fog seemed pressed up on all sides. Linnor stared straight at the human in front of her, trying to will her lyrics into something he would understand like she had done before. There was something in the way he was looking at her, though...she swallowed.

 _"Like a small boat_  
 _On the ocean_  
 _Sending big waves_  
 _Into motion_  
 _Like how a single word_  
 _Can make a heart open_  
 _I might only have one match_  
 _But I can make an explosion_

 _This is my fight song_  
 _Take back my life song_  
 _Prove I'm alright song_  
 _My power's turned on_  
 _Starting right now I'll be strong_  
 _I'll sing my fight song_  
 _And I don't really care if nobody else believes_  
 _'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me_

Linnor took a step back and was met with the solid body of Bombur, and realized that the company had moved directly behind her. Bard, however, had not moved a muscle and was still looking at her like she was a ghost come to pass. After a long moment, he spoke quietly.

"I did not mean to offend, miss. No doubt you can hold your own, especially with a company like this behind you. You certainly seem to have a fire bright within you. You..." he trailed off.

"I what?" Linnor snapped, still a little miffed and embarrassed at pulling her talent out so flagrantly.

Bard's expression closed off in a second and he looked away from them all.

"Nothing. You remind me of someone I used to know, a long time ago. That's all." his voice was clipped and pained, and even as snappish as she was, Linnor knew when enough was enough.

Just then, Bilbo's voice gave a little gasp and they all looked around.

"Look."

Through the mist, long wooden poles emerged, forming into docks and bridges and rickety houses perched over the water. Shabby shanties were lined up on the edges and what looked like storefront doors were propped open, everything was a dreary brown and grey before the fog rolled right back in around it all.

"Laketown." Ori whispered, his hands clutching at his charcoal.

"Quick. Into the barrels." Bard's voice was sharp.

'What?" Kili turned back around, leaning on Fili for support as his sudden movement made him stumble a little.

"The people of Laketown...well they are not overly kind to yours, and it would be best if you were not seen entering the town, least of all by me. If you tuck back into the barrels, I can hide you long enough to get pass Alfred and under my home, where you'll be able to hide until nightfall."

There was not much room to argue, even Thorin could see that. Reluctantly, the dwarves and Bilbo clambered into any one of the empty barrels, leaving Linnor standing alone out on the deck.

"What about me?" she asked. "There are no more barrels to hide me in. We'll be caught."

"No." said Bard. "Your dress, though waterlogged and covered in ichor sludge, is still of an elven style, and you look passably elven, if not human, to get by as a visiting guest from Mirkwood who ran into trouble with orcs on the border. It's an easy enough occurrence for us that no one will question it. Trust me."

As they floated into another harbor, Linnor gave her companion a sideways glance as he started to fill up the barrels with fish to cover the tangled mops of hair. Quick as that, the barge was floating into the main setting of Laketown, and just beyond that, Linnor saw the outline of a lone, solitary peak. Almost there, and here they were in the hands of a bargeman.

"Oh." she whispered. " I don't think I have a choice, now, do I?"


	27. Chapter 27: Sneaking Into Home

**A/N: Am I on a roll or what? And wow, you guys, thank you so, so very much for the amazing reviews. I cannot even begin to express how much I love getting them and reading your thoughts on things, and you have been so kind and lovely! Thank you!**

 **Anyways, here is the next chapter as we begin to enter Laketown. This section of the journey will be a long one, so I will make it as thrilling as possible. I do not own Laketown, the Hobbit and so on.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Bard." a sneering voice trailed from a darkened doorway.

They had floated out of the fishmonger's shop and to the entryway of the city, where Bard was trying to clear passage for the barrels and Linnor. She had sat back down at the far end of the barge and was trying her best to look like one of the Mirkwood court.

"You look like one, but you need to act like one. Or none of us will get through unscathed." Bard had told her.

So Linnor sat and cast her mind back to Mirkwood: dark trees, glinting silver light balancing on the branches, quiet mysteriousness of every root and hollow, the music, ice blue eyes framed by soft, silver blond hair that-

Linnor had stopped thinking then, shutting out all emotion and freezing herself in one place, almost literally.

"Alfred." Bard's thinly veiled contempt alerted Linnor again to the approaching man. She kept her face impassive, as she had no doubt the elf in her mind would, but her eyes became intent and watchful as a shadow emerged from the door.

He was thin, with a narrow face and a high nose, which accounted for his nasal tone. His mouth was pulled back in a leer, showing off crooked and yellowing teeth. His black hair was lank, and the whole of him just looked damp. Linnor thought he looked entirely unpleasant.

'What do we 'ave here, eh, Bard? Goods, gold, wares you've tried to sneak in and hole up without reporting to the Master's Advisor?" the creep, for Linnor had decided he was, took a sultry step forward, beady eyes greedily taking in the barrels of fish and Linnor at the end.

"I'm carrying all I am allotted, no more than unneeded. I have done no wrong." he held out a small slip of parchment from his tan jacket. Alfred snatched it, his blackened nails tearing a hole in it.

"Oh, but you 'ave, my friend." he said, saying the word "friend" like Linnor said goblin: with no spare amount of vile contempt. "This slip is for the empty barrels and yourself. Those barrels are not empty by any means. Tsk. Tsk. Dump them."

Alfred made a motion with his hand and two decorated guards came in close behind him. The next second they were on the barge, taking hold of poor Bifur's barrel, and began to dump the fish into the lake.

Linnor began to panic slightly, trying to keep her face as disinterested as she could without giving away her fear. They were going to get caught. She had to say something, anything before Bifur tumbled out among the fish. What would an elf say, a Mirkwood elf? What would Legolas say? Linnor opened her mouth-

"What are you doing?!"

It was not her voice, though, it was Bard's. His face was angry, and briefly, Linnor was relieved. As irritated as he was to be smuggling ungrateful dwarves into his town, it was clear he despised this man so much more. For now, he would have to help them, eve if it was out of spite to this rat.

"You would purposefully throw away food the people desperately need? People know who you work for, Alfred. How would they feel towards him, and towards you knowing you let them starve?"

Alfred snarled, but Linnor saw the twinge of doubt and fear before he snapped his fingers. The guards paused, looking up, Bifur's axe only barely peeking out.

"Fine. But don't think you get off easy, Bard. Always the people's hero. Who's the wretch?" he motioned to her. "Bit young, but your tastes certainly haven't changed, have they, eh?"

There was a snarl and a loud thump from one of the barrels, but Bard quickly stepped in front, covering the noise with one of his own. Quickly, Linnor stood, the cold fire in her eyes no longer forced.

"It would be wise of you to watch your tongue. I am no wretch, hempweed. I am one of the Mirkwood court, fair and sharp and I was sent out to warn this Man of the orcs seen at our borders when I was attacked. He kindly offered me aid before I returned. So I don't know what you assumed, Alfred, but it was far from accurate."

The acid in her tone startled Linnor a bit, but even more so to the two Men. Alfred looked grossly sheepish.

"My apologies, Lady-?"

"Tauriel." Linnor spoke the first elvish name that came to mind, one she had heard in passing many years ago, her instincts telling her to avoid using any sense of her real name this time. Indeed, Bard gave her a curious look, but hid it well.

"Ah, then, my apologies, Lady Tauriel." Alfred gave a contemptuous bow. "On your way then."

Without so much as a second glance. Bard nudged the guards off the barge. He took hold of the steer and guided them into the mist, into the grey town, and around the corner to a secluded dock. When he was sure no one was looking, Bard began tipping over the barrels, spilling dwarves and dead fish over Linnor's feet. One by one, the dwarves (and Bilbo) picked themselves up, grumbling and griping foul curses under their breath. After he was freed, Thorin came over hurridly, Fili behind him. Kili was still slowly gathering himself up, his face pale.

"Are you alright?" Thorin gripped her shoulder before whirling on Bard, his voice barely contained. "What was that? You let him speak to her like filth! I'd like to know why, and I'd like to know," at this his voice got very quiet, "what he meant by tastes."

Bard paused, not long, but long enough for 13 dwarves to narrow their eyes and clench their fists.

"Peace, peace. First I'd like to know how you, Alea, came up with such conviction. Sorry, Tauriel, as you told Alfred."

The others by no means relaxed, but curious eyes did seek out Linnor. She felt herself flush, but straightened anyway in defiance, though she wasn't sure why.

"Why? I have met many elves, am half one myself, and know how they fare. It was not difficult, sir. As for the name, any can be elvish if one desires it to be and one sounds like rippling water. The name flowed and was familiar to me as elvish. Not to mention the twit made me furious and I wanted to shut him up."

The last line was grumbled, true to her family's fashion, and she heard Gloin chuckle.

"Now you."

Bard ran a hand over his eyes, and for a moment, Linnor saw the poor, tired, widowed father of three who deserved more than life gave.

"Alfred is Advisor to the Master of Laketown, neither of which quite like me very much. Speaking out at him would have landed all of us in jail, and my children out on the docks. Second...Alfred has been around a long time, long enough to have seen my children born, seen me build a life for us, seen...well, long enough to have seen my wife pass."

He hesitated for a moment, unsure how to phrase the next words.

"I told you that you could be my daughter, that you reminded me of someone. It's true, when I saw you, I thought my wife had come home again in your form. Do not mistake me." Bard had seen the murderous glares of her family at the suggestion.

"I know it to be false, as you do. You are the age of my eldest, and yet… She is...Alea, you do not look like her, but you are her. It's why I agreed to help you. I would do anything for her."

Linnor was still, unsure how to take in this information. Everywhere she went, someone was telling her who she looked like, who she was. Linnor Sathren, of Elrond's court, Linnor Durin, daughter of Frerin Durin, Princess of Erebor. Thranduil told her she looked like a Mirkwood elf. Bard said she looked like his lost wife. To Thorin, she was his niece, Fili and Kili's cousin. Legolas...her heart ached. She hadn't known him long enough to know what she would have been to him. Linnor wasn't sure she herself knew anymore who, or what, she was.

Thorin's hand tightened on her shoulder.

"Enough. We are wasting daylight. We need rest before we arm ourselves to leave."

Bard's eyes were distant for a while longer before he nodded.

"There is a way. My house is near here. I can take you there through a way you won't be seen. But you're not going to like it."


	28. Chapter 28: Children at Bay

**A/N: I have this really cool idea of how to tie in everything I've written so far and have it all come into play in Laketown. So the Laketown scenes are going to be really drawn out. Just a heads up. They will get to the Mountain eventually, but Legolas has to appear and more singing of course! Plus, a pretty clever plot twist, if I do say so myself!**

 **Okay, enough spoilers. The song below is When I Grow Up from Broadway's Matilda. I do not own it, nor do I own the Hobbit. Please continue to review and enjoy the next installment!**

"Absolutely revolting." Fili griped to his brother as he helped him clamber out of the chambers, a near retching hole for sewage and other wastes. Fili could not believe that _that_ had been the only way into Bard's home, but he had to admit (not out loud of course, he had his pride) it prevented them from being seen from unfriendly eyes, which seemed to be everywhere these last few days.

Kili snorted at his elder's whining, then hissed as his injured leg caught the edge of the toilet.

"Mahal, Kee, you really should have Oin take care of that. Bard probably has some herbs he can use. If Thorin-"

"Enough." Kili's voice was stern, something not often associated with the youngest member of the company. "I'm fine, Fee. I'm just a little sore, like everyone else. C'mon, we're the last ones out. The others are waiting."

With that, his little brother pushed past him and headed upstairs. After a moment, when Kili had disappeared into the main home, another head peered around the corner and stared at Fili with amused impatience.

"Well, come on then." Linnor smiled down at her cousin, who looked mildly upset. "If you're worried about adding to the smell, don't be. Either way, it's a horrid stench. You all need a bath."

Fili let out a bark, his mind going to anyone trying to tell the mighty dwarves of Erebor to take a bath. With a pang, he thought of his mother, Dis, back in the Blue Mountains, awaiting news of her only family, which now, Fili thought with amusement, included a niece. His mother would be ecstatic. That is, if they lived to return to tell her.

When Fili reached the solid level of Bard's house, he found that the others had quite clearly made themselves at home. Kili had settled by the window, the grey light casting a dull pallor on his skin, although Fili was happy to see a bright, mischevious glint back in his brother's eyes. Thorin stood beside him, watching the rest, but now and then glancing over at his youngest. Oin and Gloin were glaring from an opposite wall, Dwalin, Balin, Dori, and Nori were around a stout table, their head together, talking in low voices. Bombur was squashed into a chair, with Bifur standing stoically behind him, Bofur nudging his way into the kitchen. Ori was sitting hunched by the stairs here, charcoal stub scratching eagerly on a slip of parchment.

Fili moved to stand by his kin when he noticed them. It took him long to realize the first was Linnor, looking at these others with a kindly hesitance. Bard stood with them off to the side, though what with 13 dripping dwarves, a maiden girl, and a hobbit (who Fili finally found behind Bombur), there was not much room to spare.

With Bard were three youths, a boy and two girls. The two oldest had wide eyes, a little fear evident, but they remained politely quiet, and Fili could see them struggle to keep an open mind with all of this. However, the youngest had an even brighter, interested glint.

"Da, why did dwarves just come out of our toilet?" the little girl asked.

Bard huffed a little, deciding that full out laughter would not engage well with heavily muscled dwarves who were already in a foul mood.

"Hush, Til. They are...friends of mine. Here you all, Alea and company." Bard called them all to attention, though most were already looking on in interest. For a brief moment, Fili wondered why he had called them with Alea's name before he remembered that hers had been the only name given from the whole company, since Thorin, and everyone else, had been too suspicious to be forthcoming.

"Alea, Dwarves, meet my children. Bain," Bard clasped the young boy proudly on the shoulder, making the lad stand tall and nod solemnly, "Sigrid," he moved his palm to the eldest girl, who nodded her head once, still a bit nervous with so many imposing men so close, "and my youngest, Tilda."

The little girl clutched a small rag doll to her face, her keen eyes peering up at all of them with shy happiness. In a fluid motion, she giggled and moved away from her father towards Kili and looked up at him in evident curiousity. Kili, true to his nature, wiggled his eyebrows and grinned cheekily at the lass, though Fili could see the evident effort it took for him to do that.

"Something I can help you with, milady?" he uncrossed his arms and stood at attention, making the young girl relax in turn.

"Why don't you have a funny beard like the others?"

A roar of laughter came up in the room, lightening the mood completely. Sigrid and Bain easily fell into happy chuckles at their sister's antics. Even Kili was smiling broadly, if a little wryly at being ridiculed by a seven year old.

"Tilda, enough. Leave the man alone." Bard motioned his daughter back to his side.

"No, it's fine." Kili sent the girl a wink. "The truth? I'm still young, Miss Tilda. I have many, many years before I am even close to an adult. I'm young, so very much a child, as my uncle and my brother like to remind me of hourly, despite my brother only being a few years prior to myself. Bit hypocritical if you ask me. "

Fili whacked his brother lightly on the shoulder, as Thorin let out a small grunt, though he could see the light in his eyes that told them all he was content with the mischief. But in a second it was gone when he turned back to the Man that was their host.

"You mentioned weapons, Bard, things we could use before we left on our journey."

"Ah yes, a jouney, one I still don't know what pertains to, else I could be of better use." Bard raised an eyebrow, but nobody spoke. "Alright. I have to collect them. It's dangerous to have too many rebellious things in one's house, especially when that house is mine. I will be back soon. Sigrid, Bain, look after Tilda."

Bard headed out the door and the company waited until the door was almost shut before speaking.

"Thorin, we need a plan." Dwalin hissed. "We cannot be babysitters to the lads, and we need to move. Durin's Day is nearly here and-"

"Hush, Dwalin." Linnor snapped, making the much bigger dwarf turning in surprise. "We can spare a few hours while Bard fetches us what we need. We cannot move until nightfall anyway, unless you'd like to leave the way we came in."

When Dwalin offered no response other than a slight snarl, Linnor grinned and turned back to the children. Fili had to give her credit. In just the few weeks she had been with them, Linnor had certainly grown a backbone she never had before back in Rivendell.

'Linnor-"

"I thought your name was Alea." the older boy, Bain, turned with interest to Linnor, his eyes a little too bright for Fili's liking, and Thorin's for he gave the boy such a look that he gulped and jerked back into his sisters.

Linnor sighed and nodded. "Linnor is my first name, but Alea is my second. Your father doesn't know, I lied for protection. It's what I have learned."

"It sounds elvish. Are you an elf?" Sigrid moved forward with excitement, reaching out to clasp Linnor's hands with her own. "I've always wanted to meet an elf."

Tilda, feeling left out, went around tugged on Linnor's tunic. The rest of the company watched as each child was drawn to Linnor, like kindred spirits. Though it wasn't all that surprising. She was, at surface glance, the least threatening.

"I am...not a full elf, but elvish blood does run in my veins, yes." Linnor laughed. The children's eyes widened as they moved to take seats at the table, the other dwarves moving to new comfortable positions.

"When I grow up, I'm going to be an elf." Tilda spoke with the confidence only young children could have and the others smiled, aware of her lack of the world, yet unwilling to tell her that some dreams could not be.

Linnor snuck a glance at Fili and winked in merriment. Okay, so babysitting wasn't all bad. Fili caught even Thorin enjoying the antics. Fili wondered if he was remembering when he and Kili were that small, before princely duties got in the way.

"I've heard elves have the voices of angels singing the heavenly song. Can you sing?" Bain eyed her curiously with hints of excitement. Linnor chuckled and returned that gleam right back at him.

"Oh Mahal, we'll have to tear those two apart by morning." Balin chuckled.

Linnor shot the elderly dwarf a panicked glare, one filled with emotions Fili was unfamiliar with. then the look was gone and Linnor was opening her mouth to sing.

" _When I grow up, I will be tall enough to reach the branches that I need to_  
 _Reach to climb the trees you get to climb when you're grown up._  
 _And when I grow up, I will be smart enough to answer all the questions that_  
 _You need to know the answers to before you're grown up._

 _When I grow up_  
 _When I grow up, when I grow up, when I grow up, I will be strong enough to_  
 _Carry all the heavy things you have to haul around when you a grown up._  
 _And when I grow up, when I grow up, when I grow up, I will be brave enough_  
 _To fight the creatures that you have to fight beneath the bed each night to_  
 _Be a grown up._

 _When I grow up_  
 _When I grow up, I will be brave enough to fight the creatures that you have_  
 _To fight beneath the bed each night to be a grown up._  
 _When I grow up"_

The song trailed off for a moment, and the strangest look came across Linnor's face, almost wistful, almost angry. The children were absolutely mesmerized, Tilda hanging on as if every word was necessary for her to breath and live. Bain, the poor boy, looked halfway to love. Sigrid had tears rolling down her cheeks, and the same could be said for many of the dwarves. Bilbo had pulled out his handkerchief. After a hanging silence, Linnor seemed to have gathered herself and continued, but this melody had a different attitude.

 _"Just because you find that lifes not fair it doesn't mean you just have to_  
 _Grin and bear it. If you always take it on the chin and bear it._  
 _Just because I find myself in this story doesn't mean that everything is_  
 _Written for me if I think the ending is fixed already. I might as well be_  
 _Saying I think that it's ok._  
 _And that's not right_  
 _And if it's not right_  
 _You have to put it right."_


	29. Chapter 29: Depths

**A/N: SO, I was supposed to go on my first date tonight, but the guy texted me and canceled. Long story short, I'm at home instead of at dinner, and the result is a new chapter. I don't own anything from the Hobbit. Enjoy and review.**

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It was soon after Linnor had finished that Bard returned with a large bundle tucked underneath his arm and a stormy expression on his face. But before he couldsay a word, little Tilda had already dashed to meet him.

"Da! Linnor was singing the most loveliest song I've ever heard! She's elvish, and I think Bain fancies her, and, oh, Da, maybe if you ask her, Linnor can-"

Bard laid a hand on Tilda's head, quelling the flow of words as she looked into her father's stern face.

"Hush, Tilda. Come away." Sigrid stepped in after a long pause, Bard and the dwarves eying each other stormily, Linnor herself trapped in between them. Bain came forward (blushing furiously) and moved his sisters back.

Bard moved slowly and laid the bundle on the table, the hidden metal weapons clanking harshly in the stiff silence.

"It seems Thorin Oakenshield has not been the only one keeping secrets, then. Quite the group of misleading...travelers, was it?" Bard turned his cold gaze upon Linnor then, and she felt her stomach drop.

"How-?"

"You have a knack for making others believe you. Linnor, Alea, Tauriel...all just a means to an end to you. A half-elvish, half-dwarvish changeling spawn-" he spat out the words with angry venom, making Linnor flinch and erecting furious growls from the company, "traveling with a company on a quest to unleash and destruction upon us all. Isn't that right, Thorin Oakenshield? You're going to the mountain, aren't you?" Bard glared at her uncle, who returned the look without a flinch.

Thorin was as still as stone, his eyes dark with anger. In fact, all the dwarves seemed to tremble at the insult the Man had spat. But no one spoke. The silence grew out, tense and suffocating, and Linnor could feel the burn on her skin, the pounding in her ears, her breathing labored, eyes teary, the tightness in her chest building up until she felt the need to scream or choke.

"You-" Thorin finally started.

"I'm sorry."

Linnor's voice echoed loudly in the small cabin, making everyone jump. Once more, Bard's gaze locked onto hers, but gentler than before, which relaxed her somewhat.

"What?"

Linnor took a breath to steady herself. She could feel Thorin watching her, almost disapprovingly, his pride preventing him from being utterly truthful now and instead wanting to flare up with kingly might. Even Fili and Kili were tense, their Durin blood clearly boiling at a deliberate insult. But Linnor didn't feel insulted, though she knew she had been. She felt admonished, like a child. She felt none of the fierce pride so evident in her kin, only an embarrassed shame at being caught in a lie. It was vaguely similar to when Thorin told her off for her endless songs. Linnor thought that it was like if her own father was scolding her now instead of her uncle or a Man.

"Bard...try to understand, for a moment, please. A lie...I didn't mean to...what I mean to say is that my name, my real, full name is Linnor Alea Sathren Durin." Linnor barely registered the complete shock evident on Bard's face, mirrored on the faces of his children. There was a warm burning in her chest as she spoke, and Linnor thought that maybe she had spoken too soon about Durin pride as her words started to take on a defensive tone.

"Yes, Durin. My father was of the royal line, making Thorin and his kin mine own. Elf blood aside, I chose to be here, in the middle of wild danger, leagues upon leagues from home, with my kin to claim what is rightfully ours, and I include myself in that. So do not call me spawn, Man, when that is all we are. I did not lie out of evil, which I think you know, I lied to to protect myself in case you crossed us over. But for that, I am sorry. Try to understand. For family, you do what's needed of you. Regardless the end results."

A hand came and rested on her shoulder as she finished strong, her face flushed and damp with strays, and Linnor saw KIli, his eyes gentle in his young, stubbled face. Fili stood behind him, his hand on his brother's back. The others stood a little taller then, all beside their own kin, and Bilbo looking a little lost. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda held each other tightly, and Bard's eyes lingered on them.

"There are depths to you, Linnor. Depths one does not expect from a lineage such as yours. I would know, as I have grown up in the mountain's shadow, as my family has since the days of Dale." Bard settled himself into a chair and, after a moment, Tilda crept softly over and nestled into his lap.

"Believe me then, Thorin Oakenshield, Linnor Durin, and company here, that I am sorry and meant no true ill offense to you with my ill-tempered comments. In truth, I had a suspicion in any case that none of you were truthful in any reason you gave. I would do anything, even lie, to protect my family, you are right. And that includes protecting them from the fiery death that is sure to come if you proceed to do what I think you're going to do, and if you really are who you now say you are, and who I know you to be, then I say it's best of you leave as soon as possible. Or at the very least, leave my home."

"So you will not help us?" Balin spoke up. Linnor could see how desperate things were becoming now, and it was in no way comparable to how desperate things would soon (so very, very, soon) become. Bard sighed and Linnor reached up and touched Kili's hand.

"I did not say I would not do as I promised. Here take these. Then leave." Bard reached over Tilda and unwrapped the bundle he had only minutes before laid down.

Metal poles and bars clanged onto the wooden table. Linnor would be the first to admit that, growing up as she did, she was no expert on weaponry, let alone those suitable for taking back a mountain and taking down a full grown firedrake. But those-

"What are these?" Dwalin had picked one up in haste and just as quickly threw it down in disgust. "Fishing tools? We cannot use these!"

The others growled in response, and Linnor caught Bilbo reaching for the hilt of his slim dagger in assurance.

Bard himself hissed a little and stood, carrying Tilda up in his arms as he went.

"Well what did you expect? You asked for weapons to fight with, and this was all I was able to get you on short notice and without raising alarm. Anything more suitable would have to go through the Master and it'd be a dry day indeed before he gave anything in charity of a quest."

"Well these are utterly useless to us." Thorin snarled, the constant debating clearly wearing on his patience. Linnor feared an all out fight was close at hand, especially with the look on Dwalin's face. "What else is there? You have swords? Maces, axes, bows, arrows, shields and the sort, do you not?"

Bard tensed, clearly hearing the open threat and deciding whether or not to bait it. He chose, and sighed.

"The armory is heavily guarded andin the center of the town by the Master's quarters. It's where all the heavy weaponry not necessary for our daily lives is kept. There are two floors to it. But if you plan on doing anything, you do it without my help, Thorin Oakenshield. I will not risk a jailed life and abandoning my children for you."

Thorin gazed at him a long while, and slowly at the rest of them, each giving something in their gaze, awaiting the next orders from there close King. Linnor's breath was held, wishing she could go back into song, before all the trouble and grief had started. For a brief second, she wished she was back in Mirkwood, feeling the things she had felt.

"Very well. We do not need your aid." Thorin spoke harsh and strong, not a waver in his steely eyes. "Tonight we make a move on the armory, and then, on the mountain."


	30. Chapter 30: The Only Right

**A/N: And I'm back. These next few chapters are going to be a little bit darker and full of pent up emotion. I'm also working on some other stories at the moment and I can't wait to upload them in a few weeks. I do not own the Hobbit, nor LOTR. Please keep reviewing and read on!**

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"If the guards haven't killed them already, Mahal save them because I will." Linnor hiked up her skirts as she hurried after Bard along the boarded docks of the town. "Fools, idiots-raising the alarm-perfect, just perfect-and I suppose this'll go unnoticed. Mahal, the whole town-"

Linnor had followed Bard into the center of what quite possibly could have been a town square. It was the middle of the night, yet the whole square was lit up in bright light pouring out from the largest doors in the most grandeur building Linnor had seen in Laketown, and that was saying a lot. The Master's Hall.

Already a large crowd of people had assembled: men, women, and even a few of the older children all wrapped in their grey, water drowned cloaks and drab blankets, all woken from their cold slumber at the raised alarm. The alarm her thickheaded family had set off trying to rob the armory.

They had set off from Bard's house as soon as night had fallen. Thorin had told Linnor to stay behind at Bard's for safety.

"If we are caught now, it will do us no good to bargain inside a cell. You need to on the outside if need be. You are safer here than with us tonight."

"But I can help. Thorin, I deserve-"

"Linnor." Thorin had clasped her cheek in his rough palm, his eyes sparkling and kind. "I know, and you do. But I am still your uncle, and Dis would flay me alive if she found out I let you rob weaponry. Believe me, when you finally get to meet your aunt, that will be more a serious threat to you. If anything, at least, I intend to be of some good influence to you in the ways of our people. Stay. I will send one of the others for you when its time."

"Bet you wish I had come now, huh, Thorin? Saved your sorry hide from this mess." Linnor muttered darkly as she pushed her way into the crowd. The dwarves had to be around here somewhere. Bard, too, had seemingly vanished into the scores of people.

She gave another aggressive shove at the person in front of her, and in a flash of their fist, Linnor was knocked back on the ground, all the wind puffing out of her in a surprised "Oh!"

"Linnor?"

Bofur's face appeared suddenly over her. Linnor quickly scrambled to her feet. The dwarves were all shoved into a tight group surrounded, Linnor saw now, by Men in armor: guards of the Master presumably. They had been taken prisoner again.

"Bofur, what happened? Thorin told me it was a simple job, and then the next thing I know, the town is in an uproar!" Linnor pulled Bofur closer to the front of the group where Thorin and her cousins stood at attention. Kili's head was bowed, and Fili had a firm hand on his shoulder, talking to him in a low voice. Kili swayed a little and Fili edged his body behind his brother for him to lean on, his hand moving to tug affectionately at the silver clasp Kili wore in his tangled hair. Bofur pulled on Linnor's arm, pausing their progress, his face wary.

"It was Kili. Thorin laid him up with tons of nice solid swords to carry down the stairs and right out the door. My, he wasn't looking too good. Come to mention it, he hasn't since that arrow incident. Face ashen, body weak, eyes dead, well, he looks like a floating wraith he does." Linnor glared at the rambling toymaker and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, um, he said he was fine, but-well anyway, the next thing any of us knew, there was the sound of his legs giving way, and then he and those lovely swords smashing down the steps loud enough to sound the guards, as you can see. It was quite an impressive feat, considering the circumstances. Thorin's none too pleased, clearly, and Kili's taking it rather hard."

Linnor couldn't stop the heavy sigh that escaped her lips as she looked back over at her cousin. He really did look ill, sicker than he had that morning. Maybe he was overdoing it...and now the guilt must be making it none too pleasant. A flash on onyx caught her eyes then, and Linnor moved her gaze to meet her uncle's, his glare chilling her bones. He jerked his head and Linnor slowly made her way over.

"I thought I told you to stay put." Thorin growled, but Linnor could see the slim spark of relief that he had that she was there with them all.

"And I thought I told you that I am with you until the end, Uncle. That means I stand here now." Linnor held his gaze firmly, something she once, long ago it seemed, could never do. Before Thorin could reply, the front doors of the Hall opened grandly and two figures bathed in light proceeded down the steps.

"What is the meaning of all this?" one yelled in a nasally pompous voice. The other man took a few steps closer to the bottom of the steps. Immediately, Linnor recognized him. It was Alfred, that weasely little rat who had accosted her only that morning. His ever present leer scanned over the crowd, and rested solely on her. Uh oh.

Quickly she looked away towards the first man, who could only have been the Master. His lank, reddish hair hung limply down to his shoulders, and he was faintly thinning. He wore a fluffy, brown night cloak over what appeared to be silken night wear. Apparently the town's poverty-stricken nature hadn't affected him too poorly.

"It's Dwarves, Your Highness. Stowaways. The ones I mentioned were sighted earlier. They were trying to rob your grand armory." Alfred's sickeningly smooth voice spoke sharply over the now quieted crowd.

"Ah yes, the dwarves. And who might you be, then," the Master came down the steps and paused looking into Thorin's face, "to think that you can try to sneak into my town without so much as permission and passage and...payment, oh yes dear me, I see we have forgotten that. State your name, dwarf."

Thorin took a small step forward, but it was enough to send the Master and Alfred scurrying back.

"I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under The Mountain, King of Erebor, the mightiest city that once ruled on the borders of Dale, over Laketown. I know you know. I know you remember Erebor." Thorin continued to walk up the steps to the Master, who was floored to say the least. Alfred looked like he had swallowed something sour.

Linnor glanced behind her, and saw the wide eyes and whispered voices and hopeful grins of the crowd still circling them into the light of the hall.

"King Under The Mountain." the Master whispered, a new gleam in his eyes. "You have returned, as the legend foretold, did it not?" he asked the people around him, and there was a resounding murmur of agreement. "Thorin Oakenshield, had you merely made your presence known before, you would have received a royal welcome."

"Quite the party indeed." Alfred sneered and moved away from the two of them, towards one of the guards who was standing at attention. Linnor watched him as he whispered something quickly to the Man, who nodded once and turned on his heel, marching to the rear of the crowd.

"We all remember Dale, Your Highness, in the days when your grandfather ruled, when rivers of gold streamed past the gates of Erebor and into the heart of Laketown." the Master continued in a syrupy voice. Just then, a harsher one cut in.

"And then they ran with blood instead. Or have you forgotten that bit?" Bard took a step forward out of the townspeople and into the dimming lantern light. His face was edged with sharp lines that hadn't been there before, his eyes burning fiercely enough to rival Thorin's own glare.

"It was your grandfather's greed, Thorin Oakenshield, that drew that firedrake to the Mountain. And instead of laughter and singing, there were screams and fire. Too many were killed heedlessly because of that hoard in there. And now you're going to reawaken the death of us all, for what?" Bard moved very close to Thorin and held his gaze, the surrounding people still and silent.

"To take back what was lost. For those who died in the fire and destruction. To reclaim a kingdom that was once the most glorious in all of its kind. To make the rivers of Laketown run once again with gold!" Thorin raised his voice at the end, eliciting gasps from those around him.

Linnor watched as Thorin's eyes hinted with the same gleam she had seen in the Master's, who was watching hungrily.

"Thorin, you cannot kill that dragon!"

"Let's not be too hasty, now Bard. Your failures could very well be his success." Alfred, regaining his superiority it seemed, hissed out at him. "Let us not forget that it was your grandfather who had failed to killed the monster in the first place. Black arrow after black arrow, he shot at the brute, only managing to chip the scales on its breastplate, and nothing more. If he had killed it then, more would have lived. Erebor would have been a home again."

Linnor hissed in her breath, her eyes wide and disbelieving. She could tell from the grumbles and shocked faces from her companions that they too were blown away by this. Thorin's murderous glare intensified as he looked back again onto his brief ally.

After a long pause, Thorin moved away from Bard and turned regally back to the Master.

"I give you my promise. If Laketown gives aid to my company and myself in our quest to reclaim the Mountain and finally lay Smaug to rest, that kindness will be repaid tenfold. Gold will run through the city again and be as it once was when Dale was alive. Will you help us?"

Silence against lapping water had to be the loudest sound Linnor had ever heard. Louder than wargs, goblins, and her beating heart on the balcony in Mirkwood. Not the time. Really not the time.

"I say..." the Master raised his arms in a grand gesture, "welcome, Thorin Oakenshield and company! Welcome to Laketown! Tonight we feast, a sendoff and grand celebration to you, oh mighty Dwarf King, and in the morning you shall be outfitted for your battle! Welcome, welcome, all, to feast and dine tonight in the Grand Hall!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, and quickly, the few people who had not already been outside came scrambling down the docks to see what the new clamor was. Linnor had screams and yells and weeping sobs in her ears, but she still managed to catch what Bard yelled next.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO ENTER THAT MOUNTAIN."

Thorin barely gave the Man a second glance and townspeople began to file into the Hall.

"I have the only right."

Bard paused, then, with a flurry of curses, he turned away and stormed back in the direction of his home. Linnor watched him go sadly, when she felt a rough hand on her arm. She turned to see the guard who Alfred had spoken to earlier, his hand clenching around her forearm.

"HEY-"

Linnor's shout made several people turn, including Bilbo and Balin, who were near the rear of the group.

"Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing? What's he doing?"

"Thorin!"

The company halted their entrance into the warm dining room and turned to see Linnor being held rather unkindly by the Man. Growls erupted and many reached instinctively for weapons they did not yet have.

"Ah, ah ah. Master, I do believe that this...girl is none other than an elvish spy." Alfred came up from behind her, and trailed his hand down her cheek. The Master raised an eyebrow.

"Alfred, what is this nonsense? Clearly, Thorin and his kin know her-"

"Alas, sir, Tauriel here is a Mirkwood elf. Arrived here earlier and gave me a pinch of regality herself, she did indeed. She's been hiding and skulking ever since she got here, and now she's cavorting with this lot? Since when have dwarves and elves been close enough to travel together? Brief alliance, but nothing to this magnitude. I do believe, sir and Majesty, that she has secrets to tell." Alfred licked his lips and his hand came around to cup her collarbone. Linnor was still, her eyes focused straight ahead.

"I would like to question her, Milord. Alone."

"NO!"

Dwalin's ourburst was echoed by the other's, all in various states of fury. The only one who stayed silent was Thorin, his eyes dark and dangerous. The Master rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently.

"King Thorin, do you know this...Tauriel elf woman?"

Thorin's eyes remained focused on Alfred.

"She is my niece. My kin. An heiress to Erebor along with my two heirs, my nephews."

Linnor felt Alfred freeze and she finally felt herself become unfrozen. A snarl reared through her crystal teeth, surprising all.

"My name is Linnor Alea Sathren Durin, daughter of Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. I am a part of their company. So I would appreciate it if you MOVED AWAY FROM ME AND RELEASED ME AT ONCE."

The guard leapt away, and Linnor reached up to rub her sore arm. Alfred had vanished again into the shadows, and everyone else was waiting for any sort of cue.

"Right, well then. I don't know about you but I personally could go for a lot of wine right now." Linnor stepped up after the others, past the shell shocked Master and the chuckling dwarves. "I do believe I have the right to that."

With a brief smile at Thorin, Linnor led the way into the cheering Hall.


	31. Chapter 31: Singing at the Feast (Pt 1)

**A/N: Another update so soon? You are lucky indeed! I love the reviews that are coming in, guys!**

 **BlondiezHere: Oh my. So much tension…And things are only going to get worse.**

 **Solar: The Hobbit: A Musical**

 **These are two shout outs to two of my favorite reviews so far. Thanks so much guys! And now we are on chapter 31. We are over thirty chapters deep, guys. Whoa. And Linnor sings again! A Hobbit Musical indeed.**

 **The first song is Brother Stand Beside Me by Heather Dale, and the second song is called Song of Durin by Eurielle. I do not own either of these songs, nor do I own the Hobbit.**

 **So read onwards! And REVIEW!**

It sounded as if the thunder battle of the stone giants had come to their very door. Linnor and the rest of the company sat at a long, wooden table at the highest platform at the far end of the room, as the guests of honor. The whole of Laketown had been raised, for a message that the Master had invited all who are able to come and join the feast with the Mighty Dwarf King Under The Mountain, had been sent out, and soon enough all of Laketown's men and women had rushed through the doors, filling every available seat and around the walls.

The thick aroma of food devoured the air and pungent odors of ale and wine and beer and cheese, meat, fruit, bread, and much, much more spread out over and under and across the tables and bodies and right out into the open, now empty, square of Laketown. Linnor was eagerly tearing away at a leg of lamb, grinning inwardly at the thought of Lord Elrond and Faolan's imagined looks of disgust and shock if they could only see her now. As she took another swig of wine, (a nicely aged 1206), Linnor glanced down the long table at the others.

Fili was on her right, and next to him Thorin, who was next to the Master himself, discussing armor arrangements. Kili was on her left, looking nauseous and a little forlorn, but he seemed all the more cheerier as he launched into a rowdy discussion with Bofur, Bifur and Nori, who was sneaking silverware under his cloak. Bombur was down a few chairs from her, a large pile of delicacies partially blocking him from view all around. Bilbo was at the other end, quietly nibbling on some bread and cheese. The other dwarfs were spread out a little, some joining the Men below in drinking games and merriment. Linnor heard Gloin drunkenly argue a wager with an elderly Man about how long it would take them to slash Smaug into ribbons and jewels.

"Ahhh enough about business, Master Dwarf, enough for now. This is for merriment tonight! Drink, eat, sing! I have heard tell that dwarves can carry quite the house-raising songs when they be in the mood, am I right?" the Master howled, his face rosy from drinking.

"Quite-hic-quite right, sir!" Gloin interrupted his betting enough to gaze up at the Master. Many of the dwarves by now were more than a little intoxicated. Linnor herself was a bit light headed. Bofur was already slurring his words, and bit by bit, sinking under the table. "We dwarves have fi-hic-fine voices. But none such as the lass, there, no Lord, no. Dwarvish and elvish blood she be, and the music in her tongue is-hic-is-hic-is-"

"Gloin." Thorin's voice was soft, but it echoed in the large space and it soon fell quiet enough, as if everyone had turned to stone.

"Hold on now Thorin. What's this about your niece? A half-blood?" the Master turned his beady little gaze to her, and Linnor was reminded of Alfred's slimy touch only an hour or so before.

"Does that offend you? Does it matter so greatly that you will forgo aiding us?" Linnor took a sly sip of her drink, the alcohol raising her bluffing confidence. "I should think not, not with all you have to gain. I would hold your tongue on the subject of my heritage in present company sir, or you will find yourself robbed of more than weaponry."

The Master's face flushed with anger.

"Are you threatening me?" his voice was thin and tight, belaying the absolute offense taken by his carelessness. Linnor only continued to convey her calm, detached feeling.

"Oh come now. No one is threatening anyone. Not when it's a simple statement of fact. You said you wanted music. Well, here, in a show of good faith, I'll oblige what Gloin had originally meant and sing for you all. I've grown extremely comfortable with it and I've no doubt you all will enjoy it immensely."

Linnor pushed back her chair and, wobbling only a little as she went, walked to the top of the platform, standing right in front of the Master and her family.

 _"Brother, stand beside me  
Brother, lend your arm  
Brother, stand beside me  
Brother, lend your arm  
The land below lies stricken  
And this fight has nearly come  
Let them sing our praises when we've gone_

Linnor smiled as the townspeople relaxed into their seats as she sang. She started to walk to the side of the platform and moved down to stand amongst the Men.

 _Brother, stand beside me  
Brother, lend your arm  
Brother, stand beside me  
Brother, lend your arm  
See the weakness in the world  
And choose to be strong  
Let them sing our praises when we've gone_

 _Brother, stand beside me - Brother, lend your arm  
Brother, stand beside me - Brother, lend your arm_

Linnor was slowly making laps around the room, looking into the bright eyes of Men yearning for adventure, the lightness in families here together, and Linnor turned back to look at her own sitting raised above the rest. She locked eyes with Thorin first, then Fili, then Kili. She held his eyes as she slowly walked back.

 _All it takes is one to say  
"We'll take back that ground"  
Let them sing our praises when we've gone_

 _Brother, stand beside me  
Brother, lend your arm  
Brother, stand beside me  
Brother, lend your arm  
Let a world too tired to sing  
Relearn its song  
Let them sing our praises when we've gone_

 _Let them sing our praises when we've gone"_

The hall burst into applause as the last shimmering note died out in an eerie echo on the walls. Linnor flashed a flushed grin at the whooping Men and made her way to sit beside her cousins once more. But before she got far, there was a loud outcry, and soon it was being chanted at her.

"Oh let's have another! Come on! More! More! More!"

"All right, all right. THAT'S ENOUGH!"

The Master's cry lowered the incessant chanting until no more than excited murmurs remained. After a brief pause, he turned back to Linnor, who was still standing behind her chair, a little uncertain.

"My dear, I do apologize. That was remarkable! I daresay you have more than a knack for music. That voice of yours is a river of gold. Now I don't suppose you'd like to grace us with another? In honor of the King's, your uncle's rather, return to the throne?"

Linnor's head was spinning. It seemed that in the excitement, the wine was wearing off faster than she wanted, and her head was pounding awfully. But she saw Thorin looking at her, his face blank but, like everyone else, eagerly awaiting the music they so desperately wanted. Who was she to say no? As much as she wished she could stop and retch, she loved this, and loved that they loved this.

"In honor of Thorin? Of course." Linnor steadily walked back around, angling her body to face both the Men below and her uncle beside her. She tried to focus her thoughts. She thought of what they were going to do...of Bard's words and voice as he pleaded with them to stop...of the gleam in Thorin's eyes at the thought of the treasure laid deep in the mountain...of what Fili and Kili had told her, the legends, the history...of all those things she had read in those books far, far away in her library at home...of her father and mother, gone before she knew them...and Linnor saw, in her mind's eye, a grim vision: blood and fire, her cousins and uncle laying slain on cold stone floors, her own screams echoing in her mind.

 _A king he was on carven throne  
In many-pillared halls of stone  
With golden roof and silver floor  
And runes of power upon the door_

 _The light of sun and star and moon  
In shining lamps of crystal hewn  
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night  
There shone forever fair and bright_

Linnor hadn't even been aware that she had started to sing the soft, high melody. It was different than what she had been planning. This was grim and faint, the lyrics holding onto the fears and images she had been trying to suppress. By the startled and suddenly solemn looks from the listeners, it was not what they had been expecting either.

 _The world is grey, the mountains old  
The forge's fire is ashen-cold  
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls  
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls_

Thorin's face was taut and his eyes were vacant, his mind elsewhere. Fili was looking between her and Thorin with concern, and then at his brother, whose eyes were also distant.

 _The shadow lies upon his tomb  
In Moria, in Khazad-Dum  
But still the sunken stars appear  
In dark and windless Mirrormere_

 _There lies his crown in water deep  
Till Durin wakes again from sleep_

As Linnor trailed off, she heard the last words in her mind again, and a part of her knew that it wasn't about Thorin anymore. Suddenly, the air seemed to thicken around her with the silence. She had to get out of there. Without another look at anybody, though they continued to stare at her, Linnor hiked up her skirt and fled from the hall, the doors closing ominously behind her as she ran into the cool night air.


	32. Chapter 32: Quiet

**A/N: …I'm going through a lot right now, so please excuse me if I fail to update for a few weeks.**

 **DON"T PANIC! This story will continue to the very end. My break is not from writing, but just everything else. So to make up for that, I'm giving you guys another chapter to read and hopefully review on. The song is Quiet from Broadway's Matilda, and I do not own it nor the Hobbit.**

 **I'd love some more reviews, guys. It would make my day. Pretty please? Thank you!**

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She could hear voices starting up again in the hall as the solid oak doors swung shut with a resounding thud. Linnor stood motionless on the top stair, letting the lake air sober her up, the wine's effects wearing off completely now outside the stifling room. She closed her eyes and sighed, her feet slowly bringing her down to the empty cobblestones. The words of the last two songs played back in her mind, and Linnor suddenly felt itchy and uncomfortable in her own skin. She had had no problem with the first song. Linnor smiled faintly, remembering the pride that had shone from Fili and Kili's eyes as they connected to each other, Thorin proud and stone faced beside them. That had been happy, the kind of singing she loved. When songs echoed in her head in defense of herself, or in a dream or memory, or when she was happy, really really happy...those songs she loved because she saw the effect they had on those who listened, and the effect on herself was remarkable. These songs were meant for smiles and the warm, home feeling that blossomed in her chest. She sang for that, for herself all those times.

But this one, Linnor remembered as she walked aimlessly toward the lakeshore, was so different. Linnor wasn't sure how it was different, but even the memory of that last song made her skin feel raw. That was the first time someone had demanded a song from her, and, even in her drunken state, Linnor had felt a sense of wrongness. Singing wasn't supposed to feel like that. She remembered, in a blurred haze, all the thoughts that had run through her mind: Fili and Kili, Thorin, Faolan and Elrond, Rivendell and Erebor, and herself now and herself as who she had always thought herself to be, the parents she never had, and that final bloody fiery vision of her family's impending deaths. And without any thought, the song slipped from her lips. But this song wasn't the praising toast to her King and Uncle. This had been sad and hopeless and unlike anything she had ever sung before and she hated it. And then...then it hadn't been about Thorin anymore. It wasn't to him, or about him. It was about her. In Moria, her father...two months ago, the words she sung would never have entered her mind. Two months ago, she had been someone else entirely, someone content to live in her books and dreams. Now she was...well she didn't know who she was. Not anymore. Which is why she had ran before she could make a fool of herself.

Linnor paused in her walking as the ground beneath her feet changed from cobblestone to pebbles. She was standing on the lakeshore, just slightly outside Laketown itself. She could still hear the chatter of the feast still underway. The Lonely Mountain loomed ominously to her right, closer now than they'd ever thought, and she shivered in the warm air.

"I can't do it anymore." Linnor whispered to her shimmering reflection in the water. "Not that. Never that." Her reflection was silent, and her face pale with the moon's light. She looked like the girl she used to be...a girl she no longer knew. Suddenly, Linnor had the urge to scream, loud and painfully until someone came running.

 _"Have you ever wondered  
well I have about how when I say  
say red, for example  
there's no way of knowing if red  
means the same thing in your head  
as red means in my head  
when someone says red_

Linnor angrily swiped her fist through her water reflection and stood, moving agitatedly back to the town, hardly aware of her sudden anger and panic. A tear slid down her cheek, and Linnor raised her head to stare at the stars.

 _It's as if we are traveling  
at almost the speed of light  
and we're holding a light  
that light will still travel away from us  
at the full speed of light  
which seems right in a way_

Her breathing was ragged and Linnor turned sharply aware to the water again, her hands moving to tug anxiously at her hair. A part of her wished someone would come find her, but a larger part of her was so glad to be able to lose control.

 _What I'm trying to say, I'm not sure  
but I wonder if inside my head  
I'm not just a little bit different from all of my friends  
These answers that come into my mind unbidden  
These stories delivered to me fully written_

Her nails had started to dig into her palms, and her tears were falling freely. She turned again, kicking rocks harshly into the still water, and her angry steps were once again leading her to the docks of Laketown.

 _And when everyone shouts like  
they seem to like shouting  
the noise in my head is incredibly loud!  
and I just wished they'd stop,  
the voices and looks  
and the fighting and singing would stop  
just for once!_

Linnor screamed finally then, at that word, and looked up at the glistening white moon. She remembered seeing that same moon back in Mirkwood with Legolas, on the balcony, and her heart hurt. She had never been this confused before and everything was making her head hurt. And they hadn't even gotten to the real danger yet. She thought of Rivendell.

 _And I'm sorry, I"m  
not quite explaining it right  
But this noise becomes anger, and  
the anger is light.  
And it's burning inside me would usually fade  
But it isn't today  
And the heat and the shouting  
and my heart is pounding  
and my eyes are burning  
and suddenly everything  
everything is..._

Linnor stopped. She was back in the center square, the lights in the lantern dimmed down, the houses all locked up for the night. Even the party in the hall was dulled in her ears.

 _Quiet..._

Linnor's screams of frustration and panic shut off, and all she was left with was a hoarse whisper as she stared around in vague wonder at the brown and grey board buildings.

 _"Like silence, but not really silent.  
Just that still sort of quiet.  
Like the sound of a page being turned in a book.  
Or a pause in a walk in the woods._

 _Quiet_  
 _Like silence but not really silent._  
 _Just that nice kind of quiet_  
 _Like the sound when you lie_  
 _upside down in your bed_  
 _Just the sound of your heart in your head._

Linnor stepped closer to the steps of the hall. The party was still going strong, by the sound of it. Her head felt fuzzy, and suddenly Linnor felt very, very tired and all she wanted was to go home. Home, away from dragons and fighting and orcs and elves who stay in her mind to break her heart.

 _And though the people around me  
their mouths are still moving  
the words they are forming  
cannot reach me anymore._

 _And it's quiet._

Linnor started up the steps.

 _And I am warm  
Like I've sailed_

She placed her hand on the door, taking a deep breath as she did so, one hand wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks.

 _Into the eye of the storm._


	33. Chapter 33: Singing at the Feast (Pt 2)

**A/N: Okay, here is another chapter! The song below is Man in the Moon, and it belongs to Tolkien as well as the Hobbit. I'm looking forward to more reviews, please!**

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"Linnor! There you are. Thorin was starting to become concerned. He sent me to find you."

Linnor blinked, looking uncomprehendingly at Bilbo, whose demeanor of relief quickly changed into concern.

"Are you alright? You look-"

"I'm fine, Bilbo, thank you." Linnor tried to brush the small hobbit aside kindly, but after her breakdown she was very tired and she could feel her patience wearing thin. All she wanted now was to sleep long and without dreams. "I just went for a walk to clear my head, is all? I've just been... overwhelmed, I guess it the word." Linnor sighed.

She looked up past the rows of townspeople, still roaring away drunkenly and gorging themselves, and up towards the high table. Despite the increasing rowdiness of the party, which dwarves reveled in, the company were now solemn and stone faced, their voices low and Linnor could see they were uneasy.

"I told you. He was worried, especially after that last song you sang. Don't mistake me, it was beautiful, just..."

"Depressing? Dark? Eerie? Not what you expected from the happy half-elf? Believe me, I was more surprised than you." Linnor took her eyes off her family and glanced at Bilbo, who shuffled uncomfortably. "Bilbo," she paused, unsure how to continue, "do you...miss the Shire?"

The hobbit's eyebrows creased, in confusion or thought Linnor couldn't guess.

"Well...yes. Yes, I suppose I do. I do. I miss it horribly. I miss my books, and my chair, and my garden," he crossed his arms, but Linnor still caught the small movement to his inner coat pocket, "so, yes. I'm a little homesick, you could say. I have been ever since I first stepped out my front door in Bag-end. Before you, Thorin despised me enough that I seriously considered turning right back around to home, contract or no. After all, this wasn't my quest. Why should I be here? But I stayed. And I will stay to the very end. I had never been so far from home before, and as scary as it is, it's exciting too. I'd miss all of this." Bilbo's eyes locked with hers, and Linnor couldn't tell if he knew how she felt right then. Before she could say anything, however, a voice rang out from across the hall.

"AH! There she is, the little lark! LINNOR!" The Master's voice silenced the hall in seconds, all eyes turning to the door. Linnor saw the dwarves jerk in surprise, their faces relaxing in relief. Fili smiled widely and reached over her empty chair to nudge Kili, who had his head in his hands. Thorin, though, wasn't relieved. In fact, Linnor thought he looked sad and hurt and... resigned? But it also looked like he didn't care. That thought made her body ice.

"Come on now! Let's pick it up again now, let's get out of the solemnity and liven the celebration. Sing us another song-"

"Bofur." Thorin interrupted him, his low voice sharp.

"Yes-ah-um-w-what?" the Master did a small double take. Thorin's eyes no longer met Linnor's, and all the dwarves looked distinctly uncomfortable. Bilbo looked back and forth from Linnor to Thorin.

"Bofur can carry a tune. Linnor isn't singing anymore tonight. Bofur."

The said dwarf jerked to attention, his hat toppling over his eyes. Throughout the night, Bofur clearly had been drinking as much as Bombur had been eating. This resulted in Bofur being extremely drunk. He staggered out of his seat, much to everyone's amusement, and stood up on the table at one end. He burped slightly, earning another round of laughter, and began to sing, hiccupping every now and then.

 _"There's an inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn_  
 _beneath an old grey hill,_  
 _And there they brew a beer so brown_  
 _That the Man in the Moon himself came down_  
 _one night to drink his fill._

Bilbo couldn't help but laugh. He remembered this song! Linnor gave him an odd look and Bilbo cleared his throat and gave a sheepish grin as Bofur continued on, rallied by cheers and laughter.

 _The ostler has a tipsy cat_  
 _that plays a five-stringed fiddle;_  
 _And up and down he saws his bow_  
 _Now squeaking high, now purring low,_  
 _now sawing in the middle._

The whole hall erupted in laughter. Bilbo was a different hobbit than he had been back in Rivendell, and he had actually found himself singing along with Bofur, as he saw some of the others stand and cheer and bellow along as they had back in the elf city as well. Dwalin and Gloin particularly were starting to amp up the energy. Bilbo felt Linnor nudge his arm and he turned to her bemused smirk.

"How is it you know the words? I'll admit it sounds familiar..."

Bilbo chuckled. "You may have heard it outside your window. Bofur sang it at Elrond's dinner back in Rivendell so long ago. In fact, it was right before you-"

 _So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,_  
 _a jig that would wake the dead:_  
 _He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,_  
 _While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:_  
 _'It's after three!' he said."_

Amidst the cheering and renewed merriment (during which Bofur made some wild attempt at a bow and fell promptly under the table), Bilbo turned back to Linnor, a new thought on his mind.

"Linnor, I'm sorry, do you miss-"

Bilbo cut off his question. The big oak door was once again swinging shut. Linnor was gone.

Thorin chuckled as Bofur started to snore underneath the table. He would have Nori wake him up before they were suited up. His eyes darted down to the Lakemen. They were drunk and rowdy and much cheerier now that a rougher song had been sung. The same could be said for his company up here. Although, Thorin glanced to his left down towards his sister's sons, that may not be quite true. Though Fili and Kili both had much higher spirits than earlier, something was off.

Ever since they were dwarfings, those two brothers had been full of life and energy, always ready for anything that promised excitement, adventure, and fun. The two were always smiling. But now...Fili wore a sad, worried, broken expression that mirrored Thorin's own heart as he looked at his brother. Kili had his eyes closed now that the music was over, and his head rolled to the side.

There was no doubt Kili had taken seriously ill, no matter what he said otherwise. His nephew, once young and reckless, only looked pale, weak and haggard. Thorin's heart sank as he realized what he would have to tell his youngest heir, especially after that armory fiasco. Thorin sighed. Fili would be hurt almost as much as Kili, who would be absolutely broken hearted. Kili always tried so hard for him, but-

There was a loud thud as the solid doors swung shut again, drawing Thorin's attention back to the end of the room where his niece last stood with Bilbo. He had hoped that she understood why he had asked Bofur (still unconscious) to sing instead. He didn't think he could handle whatever song she sang next, and by the looks of it, neither would she. He wanted her rested and ready for tomorrow. When she had come back, she had looked as if all she had done was scream. Thorin thought he knew why.

But he also knew she knew why he had to go.

As his eyes finally found Bilbo standing in the back, Thorin was disheartened to see he was alone. So it was Linnor who left. Thorin sighed again, vaguely aware as the Master announced it was time for weapons and armor. All Thorin could think was that his family, once so close together, was now slipping through his fingers.


	34. Chapter 34: My House Lullaby

**A/N: Hello! Long time, no updates! Actually, it hasn't been that long but it's certainly felt like it! Well, here is a chapter at last! There are two songs I reference below. The first song is Sylvia's Lullaby from the Broadway show Finding Neverland. The second song is My House from Matilda.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think!**

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Sigrid looked out the window again. It had been hours since their father had left with Linnor to the town center, but there was still no sign of them. In fact, there was no sign of anyone on the docks. Sigrid sighed.

"Looks like everyone's still at the feast." Sigrid moved away from the window and back into the dulling glow of their kitchen. Her elder brother, Bain, was sitting moodily at their small table, their little sister Tilda on his lap.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone, too. Everyone else is there, including Da and Linnor." Bain muttered. Sigrid looked at her brother sadly and sat down across from him and Tilda.

"Da told us to stay, Bain. And besides, we couldn't have gone anyway. Sari and Lilly were sent back by their mother. Children aren't allowed into the Hall."

"Well, I'm not a child. And neither are you. Tilly's the only baby in the family."

"AM NOT!" Tilda screeched, holding onto her toy tightly. She pushed herself off of Bain's lap, and moved over to Sigrid, who scooped her up into her arms. Tilda sniffed and Sigrid hushed her as she wiped away a stray tear. Bain grimaced.

"Til, I-"

"Bain, enough. That wasn't nice. Til isn't a baby and you know it. Being angry at Da is no excuse for snapping at us. Da trusted us to stay here. He trusts you to look after us. That's why he left us here, why he told you to stay… with us." Sigrid glared sharply at her brother, not without sadness. It was times like these that she wished their mother were still here.

Da never talked about her, not really. Tilda had really only been a baby when she passed away, and they had only been a few years old. Sometimes Sigrid had flashes of a memory, of a woman, tall and thin, with curling auburn hair, and a laugh like the spring rain. But she never told her father this, or her siblings. She didn't want to hurt them by remembering.

Bain sighed and stood to come around to where they sat. He kneeled down in front of his sisters and took one of Tilda's hands, and one of Sigrid's.

"I'm sorry, Tilly. You're not a baby. Only my baby sister. You and Sigrid are my baby sisters."

"Only by a year." Sigrid interrupted, but she smiled anyway.

"Still younger than me. Sometimes I forget that we are all we have: us three and Da. Sigrid is the next thing to mother we have, and we..."

Bain trailed off, suddenly unsure of what it was he was trying to say, but it didn't matter. Tilda had suddenly pushed herself of Sigrid's lap and flung herself at her elder brother. Bain gave a sharp laugh and wrapped his arms around her. Sigrid giggled.

"Alright. That's enough tears for one night." Sigrid stood. "Time for bed. Who knows how long the others will be, and it's already very late. Come along, Tilda."

The little girl moaned and turned to face her sister.

"But I'm not tired yet, Sigrid! And if you and Bain get to stay awake, so can I!"

"Bain and I will be coming along shortly. If you'd like, I can sing you the Lullaby before you go to sleep."

Tilda's face lit up, and Sigrid smiled in earnest. She knew that would do the trick. As Tilda raced to get in her nightie, Bain nudged Sigrid slightly and smirked. He knew what she did. That Lullaby was the one their father sang to them when they couldn't fall asleep. It was one he said that their mother used to sing.

"Ready!" Tilda squealed from behind the curtain in the corner. Behind it was one large bed, which they all shared. Sigrid moved behind it, leaving Bain in the main room. After a moment, of whispers and giggles that only the girls shared, Bain heard the melody he knew so well.

 _"Quietly hush now to sleep  
on the wings of a butterfly  
Let all your cares drift away_  
 _For now is the end of the day_

 _If you close your eyes  
and count to ten  
You'll hear your dreams  
are calling again.  
Just follow the moon  
For all too soon a new day will appear  
You'll have nothing to fear  
For wherever you are and forever  
I'll be here."_

* * *

Linnor didn't know why she was there, but it had been the place her feet had decided to carry her to. Linnor knocked quietly on the wooden door, not sure if anyone was even home. After a second or two, however, a young boy opened the door.

 _"_ Hello Bain." Linnor smiled, thought it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Linnor!" Bain's whole face lit up as he exclaimed his surprise in a hushed voice. "Come in, quickly. Tilda's just gone to sleep, and Sigrid and I were making tea for Da when he returned. We thought you'd be at the feast with everyone else. Even Da is there."

"Really?' Linnor frowned as she stepped into the warm kitchen. "I must have lost him in the crowd. I never saw him there."

"If Da doesn't want to be noticed, he won't be." Sigrid said. She was standing by the oven, moving a kettle off the burner and onto a hot plate, mixing herbs and spices into the water. "Besides, he wouldn't have gone to the feast. Not with the Master and Alfred watching his every move as if he's a criminal. Tea?"

Linnor nodded a "yes, please" and sat down gingerly at the table as Sigrid poured her, then Bain and herself, a cup of tea.

'Well. You must have heard the news by now then." Linnor stated after a bit of silence. "Of Thorin and his plans to reward Laketown for arming the company."

Bain nodded, his eyes focused on her face. Linnor smiled kindly and turned to Sigrid, whose face was tight.

"Yes we heard. Some of the other kids managed to hear the whole thing before being sent back. And if you don't mind me saying, I agree with my father. I have no doubt your uncle will reward Laketown for its...kindness...but at what cost? Riches and gold for the lives of good, innocent people? Not everyone is a warrior. Not everyone is brave enough to believe this will all turn out right."

Linnor stared down in her now empty cup, her mind whirling. This too eerily echoed her thoughts from only minutes before, and it brought to mind everything she had been struggling with since earlier that night.

"But, if it meant you could leave all this...you could live well, in finer clothes, enough food, a better house-"

"There is no better house." Sigrid stood violently, her whole body shaking with fury. "You may be a princess, Linnor Durin, from one royal court to the next…it is all the same to you. But for us...at least, for me..."

 _"This roof keeps me dry when the rain falls.  
This door helps to keep the cold at bay.  
On this floor I can stand on my own two feet."_

Linnor didn't know what she was expecting (yelling and screaming, anger and tears, maybe) but she wasn't expecting the sudden drop in volume, or the soft melody from this young girl. Mahal, was this what she was like before?

 _On this chair I can do my lessons.  
On that pillow I can dream my nights away.  
And this table, as you can see, well, it's perfect for tea._

 _It isn't much but it is enough for me.  
It isn't much but it is enough..._

 _On these walls I hang wonderful pictures.  
Through this window I can watch the seasons change.  
By this lamp I can read, and I, I am set free!_

 _And when it's cold outside I feel no fear!  
Even in the winter storms, I am warmed by a small but stubborn fire.  
And there is no-where I would rather be._

 _It isn't much but it is enough for me.  
It isn't much but it is enough for me._

Sigrid turned away from her brother and Linnor and Linnor could tell that she was lost in her song, like she herself often got. It was unsettling and it made her chest ache.

 _For this is my house!  
This is my house!  
It isn't much but it is enough for me._

 _This is my house!  
This is my house!  
It isn't much but it is enough._

 _And when it's cold and bleak  
I feel no fear!  
Even in the fiercest storms!  
I am warmed  
by a small but stubborn fire!_

 _Even when outside it's freezing  
I don't pay much heed.  
I know that everything I need is in here._

 _It isn't much but it is enough for me.  
It isn't much but it is enough for me._

When Sigrid turned back around to face them, her eyes were dry but shining. All of a sudden, before anyone could say anything, the door opened again and Bard walked in, stopping short at the sight of Linnor at his table, his eldest daughter near tears, his son in obvious shock.

"Linnor-" he started.

"Was just leaving." Sigrid snapped, eyeing Linnor pointedly.

There was a palpable tension. Without another word, Linnor stood up gracefully, and in the silence, walked out the door and back into the night.


	35. Chapter 35: Do You Hear The People Sing?

**A/N: I decided to write another update because why not! We are coming up on some pretty emotional stuff here, and if you've been avid in following this story along with the movies, then you know who will make an appearance pretty soon!**

 **The song below is Do You Hear The People Sing from Les Miserables. I do not own it, nor do I own the Hobbit as such.**

 **Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions and suggestions. Keep them coming!**

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"Where's Bofur?"

"If he's not here, we leave without him. We have delayed enough. If you are armed and ready, start loading the boats."

"What about Linnor? She ain't here either, Thorin. Are you saying we leave without her?"

"She'll be here on time. So will Bofur. Now move."

Thorin motioned his company onward with an impatient gesture and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It had been a long night of drinking and planning, and it was clear that the majority of them were still hung over. Not the way he had planned to broach the mountain. Although, if he had to be completely honest, the vast majority of this quest had not been what he planned. Thorin held a hand up to his eyes to block the morning sun as he searched the crowds. It would seem that the entirety of Laketown had come out to the harboring docks to see them off. Women and children huddled together in the chill dawn air, and men stood at attention to give them a "proper" sendoff.

But as Thorin scanned the eager, frost-bitten faces, he didn't see the one he was hoping for.

"It's time. We cannot wait any longer." Thorin led the group down to where the Master had two long boats waiting to take them to the base of the mountain, just beside the demolished city of Dale.

One by one, dwarves piled into the boats, and Thorin began passing down the weapons to Dwalin and Gloin in the first boat. Further down, Balin was doing the same in the second to Nori and Bombur. A flash of dark hair and white pallor caught his eye and Thorin thrust his arm out to prevent Kili from getting into the boat.

"Not you." Thorin didn't meet his nephew's eyes. He couldn't. He knew the pain and utter disbelief he would see, and he couldn't bear the thought of looking into his youngest's eyes and know that he was the cause of it.

"What?" Kili was looking at him incredulously, and Thorin kept his gaze focused downward. He knew Fili had turned and was listening intently and he averted his eyes from his eldest as well.

"Time is of the essence and you will only slow us down." Thorin could almost see his words drive deep into the young dwarf's heart. Kili had always strived to make him proud, to be seen as worthy in his eyes. How could Thorin tell him that he was always proud of him? That he had nothing to strive for? That he loved him as his own, as he always had? After this, he may never get to.

"Thorin..." Kili's voice was high. "I am going to be there when that door is open. When we look upon the halls of our forefathers, Thorin-"

"Kili." Thorin couldn't bear to hear his nephew's fevered rambling. He cupped his cheek in his palm. "You're ill. Stay here and rest. Join us when you're healed." Thorin smiled gently, but he could tell it did not help much. His own heart clenched tightly at Kili's evident heartbreak, the fever drawing his eyes dark.

With a brokenhearted choking sound, Kili limped over to a nearby barrel and lowered his armored weight down with a wince of pain. Thorin sighed and continued to lower weapons when a body leapt up and moved passed him. He was about to protest when Oin gave him a pointed look before moving towards Kili.

"I will stay with the lad. My duty lies with the wounded." the healer said, and Thorin felt a short burst of relief. At least Kili would be tended by one of their own.

"Uncle." Thorin turned to the boat, his reluctant glare passing over his fair-haired eldest heir and resuming passing weapons down to Dwalin. Fili was looking up at him beseechingly, just as brokenhearted as his darker brother, who was stubbornly refusing Oin's help. Thorin could vaguely remember that bond he had shared with his own brother, a bond his nephews seemed to share one thousand times stronger. It had hurt deeply when one of them had gone someplace the other desperately wanted, and could not follow. "We grew up on stories of the mountain, stories you told us. You cannot take that away from him."

Thorin sighed again, this one deep enough to make him feel empty. He motioned for the guard behind him to continue passing the swords and amour down and looked Fili in the eyes.

"Fili, one day you will be king and you will understand. I will not risk this quest for one dwarf. Not even my own kin." He hoped Fili would understand now, rather than in the future. They could not be slowed. If they even so much as missed Durin's Day's sunlight on the door by even a second, they would lose the mountain forever.

Fili looked at his uncle steadily before heaving himself out of the boat and started to move past. Thorin's arm shot out and for the second time he found himself holding back his nephew. Only this one was steadily determined.

"Fili, don't be a fool. You belong with the company."

The cold stare that hit him then was something he had never seen before. It probably was how he seemed at times when he was beyond the words for anger.

"I belong with my brother."

And with that Fili went to stand by his brother, who looked as shocked as he felt, though with love shining through his grimacing smile. Thorin watched in a slight numbness. He had so hoped his heirs would be beside him. And now-

"Thorin!"

Thorin whirled around to see his niece pushing past the onlookers and coming to stand in front of him. Her hair was mussed and her face red from the cold. Her lips were a faded pinkish blue and here eyes were puffy, like she had been in tears. Thorin hid his discomfort. Tears were Dis's area, not his.

"Linnor. You made it. Balin has some extra armor over there and you can pick up a sword-"

"I'm not going with you."

The words came out rushed and halted, like they weren't planned. And by the teary eyed grimace on her face, Thorin knew Linnor hadn't planned to say them. Not like that anyway.

"What?"

Linnor took a deep breath, and Thorin watched as another tear tracked down her cheek.

"I said I am not going to the mountain with you, Thorin. I can't. I can't-I will not watch you march to your deaths. I will not- I can't-" Linnor shook her head. "I am not like you. I am not a Durin by heart, not really. My home is not that mountain. It's so far away from here, back in Rivendell. And I never should have left. I don't know what I was thinking, that I could be here, with you. I am not a warrior. I'm just a girl. You will always be a part of me, my family, my uncle. But Thorin, I am not a part of this. I-I am going home. And that is not with you."

Thorin was frozen in place. He could not lose another piece of his family. She...she was his niece, the last piece of his brother he had.

"Linnor..." he started, and as he did before with Kili, he reached out and cupped her cheek in his rough palm. "Whatever you decide to do, know that I support it. But know this. You will always be a Durin, a part of this family and this right to our home. Because I hope that you see that it is your home. You joining this company was Mahal's blessing on us. You have made such a difference to our lives. If you cannot stand with me now, I understand. But when this is over, when we come out on top, I will send for you. Decide then where you belong. Not when emotions are too high."

The sound of a horn broke their embrace, and Thorin stepped away from all three of his kin and back into the boat. Amidst cheers and screams and sobs, the boat pulled away from the docks and out onto open water to the mountain.

* * *

Linnor watched with tears streaming down her face. It was done. The screams of joy from the people around her were only hollow echoes in her ears.

 _"Do you hear the people sing!  
Singing the song of angry men?  
It is the music of the people  
Who will not be slaves again!  
When the beating of your heart  
Echoes the beating of the drums  
There is a life about to start  
When tomorrow comes!" _

Linnor turned away from the painful sight of the separating company and stopped short when she saw Fili, Oin, and Kili all huddled together around Kili's shivering frame. Before she could say anything, though, she heard the sound of running feet and heavy breathing.

"Oh!" Linnor turned to face an out of breath and obviously still hungover Bofur. "Did you all miss the boat as well?"

Linnor was about to reply, to fill them all in on what she had just done, when Fii's panicked voice rang out on the docks.

"Kili? KILI!"

Linnor whirled back around just in time to see her cousin lurch forward and land hard on the docks, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, before going limp in his brother's arms.


	36. Chapter 36: Just Please

**A/N: So I understand that some of my chapters have been more song than story. I understand that some may find that annoying, and some may skip over the lyrics entirely just to get to the storyline. I get that, I do. I hope some of you read the lyrics because each song I choose is specific to the scene and how Linnor feels and the emotions I tried to put into writing.**

 **Anyways, we are coming up on some pretty tense scenes, so I hope you're prepared! If you follow the movies, then you know that the end of BOTFA is very emotional, so this should get interesting as I build it up. Thanks for reading this far! Sorry this chapter is short! But I'm on a roll, and I'm going to be updating a lot and very quickly.**

 **The song below is When Your Feet Don't Touch The Ground by Ellie Goulding.**

 **Please continue to review and comment.**

* * *

"Bard! Bard, please open up! Please! Sigrid! Bain! Tilda, please, it's Linnor!"

Linnor banged her fist hard on the plain wooden door of the Laketown hut, her panic rising alongside her anger. Bofur and Fili were holding up Kili, who was becoming paler by the moment. After he had collapsed on the docks, Oin had feverishly begun checking him over as Fili held him tight. Linnor stood by with Bofur, and they watched, numbly, as the townspeople slowly left them be, and Oin tried to find cause to Kili's sickly pallor. At last he turned to the wound in Kili's leg, and Linnor nearly turned away and emptied her stomach at the sight.

The wound had turned black, leaking blood so dark it looked like ichor, like the sludge of orcs. The skin around it looked diseased, veined purple and bruised. Everything seemed paler by comparison, and Linnor had brokenly thought that he might be already dead. In that second, Fili, looking more scared than she had ever seen him before, turned to the healer.

"Oin?"

As deaf as the old dwarf tended to be, even he could hear the absolute desperation in the blonde heir's voice. Sighing, the dwarf looked up to the three of them, his eyes tired and bleak.

"I need a place to work."

And so Linnor found herself back at the place she had left only hours before in tears and uncomfortable silence. The looks on Sigrid and Bard's faces as she came and left, the memory of last night (was it only last night?) was vivid and at the same time, a vast blur. She didn't even know if anyone was home, or if they would even be welcome here anymore thanks to her. But it was the only chance they had.

Finally, just as Linnor's calls had turned to frantic gasps and sobs, the door was flung open, and Bard filled the frame for a fraction of a second, saw her face and made to close the door. Panic filled Linnor's heart and she quickly wedged her shoulder to stop him.

"Wait! Please, Bard, I-I know you have nothing to owe me, and you have no reason to help us-"

"No, I don't. I've had enough of dwarves on my doorstep. Now I'd appreciate if you left-"

"Please!" Linnor's voice broke, and she knew there were tears staining her face. "Kili's sick. He's really sick. He needs help. I-I didn't know where else to go."

Bard's eyes moved from her to her cousin behind her, but Linnor kept her eyes trained to the bargeman's face. _Please, please, for Kili, please..._

"Hurry. Inside." After what felt like an eternity, in which Kili's labored breathing had gotten shallower and louder, Bard finally opened the door wide enough for them to tumble through. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda were waiting right inside, watching apprehensively as the five of them moved anxiously into the small interior.

"Quickly, place him on the table. Bain, make room. Sigrid, help them lift him up. Tilda, honey, help me find the herbs, the strong kind." Bain pointed Bofur and Fili to the larger dining table and then began to rummage through the makeshift cupboards along the wall.

Linnor stood off to the side, watching in a detached sort of way. She shouldn't be here. If she weren't here, she wouldn't be hurting so bad. She wouldn't be so conflicted and torn and confused about who she was and where she should go. If only she had stayed in Rivendell. If only-

"Linnor."

Bain had come to stand by her. Kili was laying on the table, his soft moans increasingly loud in the small space.

"Are you alright?"

 _When did life become so complicated?  
Years of too much thought and time I wasted,  
And in each line upon my face,  
Is proof I fought and lived another day._

It took Linnor a second to realize that she had started singing aloud, but she was not surprised. Neither was anyone else. It seemed to be her way of talking now, and everyone seemed to have accepted that. She could barely remember a time when it wasn't her way of communicating and, if possible, that made her heart hurt more. It wasn't like singing, now, though. It was like trying to choke out something volatile and painful without talking.

 _When did life become this place of madness?  
Drifting on an empty sea of waves and sadness?  
I make believe I'm in control,  
And dream it wasn't all my fault._

 _When your feet don't touch the ground,_  
 _And your world turned upside down,_  
 _Here, it's safe, in this place,_  
 _Above the clouds._

 _When your feet don't touch the earth,  
You can't feel the fates that hurt  
And you're free, there's no need  
To come down.  
When your feet don't touch the ground.  
_

It hurt, even as she sang, even as Kili cried out and convulsed and Fili wept silent tears and Bard and his children tried to pretend a family wasn't being torn apart. Linnor turned away for a moment, lowering her voice so only she could hear the words.

 _Everyday just feels a little longer  
Why am I the only one not getting stronger?  
Running around pretending life's a play,  
It doesn't make the darkness go away._

 _I may be young but I can still remember  
Feeling full of joy, crying tears of laughter  
Now all my tears are all cried out,  
Make-believe, but count me out._

Faolan...the memory of her dearest friend back in Rivendell came to her like a whisper. She had always known when she needed anything. She had been friend and mother and sister to her and Linnor could faintly hear the sounds of their laughter back in that high towered room of hers, so very far away now. Linnor closed her eyes and held back a shuddering breath. She couldn't let it all go, not here. Not now.

 _'Cause my feet are on the ground,  
And the inner voice I found  
Tells the truth, "There's no use,  
If your head's in the clouds"_

 _With my feet on solid earth,_  
 _I can face the fates that hurt,_  
 _And in time, I'll be fine,_  
 _I'll come 'round._

Kili's chocking gasps became screams, and they mingled with Fili's cries for someone to do something, Tilda's near silent sobs of fear as her elder sister tried to comfort her.

 _When your feet don't touch the ground,  
When your voice won't make a sound.  
Here, it's safe. In this place.  
Above the clouds.  
When your feet don't touch the earth,  
You can't feel the fates that hurt.  
And you're free, there's no need,  
To come down.  
When your feet don't touch the ground._

"I cannot use any of this!" Oin's shout broke her melodic stupor. "Kingsfoil, that would be ideal, lad, where is that?"

Bard let out a frustrated growl as he stared down at the assortment of herbs and medicines.

"It's a weed. We feed it to the pigs. We have none in the hut, nor do I know of where to get it."

Oin slammed down his ear trumpet and rubbed his brow in defeat. Only Linnor noticed Bofur silently slip out the door, to where, Mahal only knew.

"We need that Kingsfoil, lad. Or Kili will die."


	37. Chapter 37: Let Go

**A/N: Okay, three updates in one day? This is insane. I need to sleep, but I'm back in the swing of things. I should really do my homework at some point, but I had to do this first.**

 **The song below is Let Her Go by Passenger. I do not own this, nor do I own LOTR or the Hobbit and such.**

 **Thanks so much to BlondiezHere and Wildhorses1492 for their reviews and comments. I'd love to hear from as many people as possible. I'll write back! So keep them coming please! You guys are amazing! Thanks for reading and enjoy!**

* * *

The waters of the lake were quiet, smooth as glass. As the two boats moved slowly and steadily, waves rippled out to the distant shoreline on either end. A new day was starting to dawn and the light set fire upon the water and the silver armor they wore. The dwarves in the first boat huddled low in the early morning air. Thorin, however, stood as frigid as ice, his dark eyes fixated on the mountain looming ever closer. One could only assume the thoughts haunting the King.

Thorin's steel gray eyes, however, were not focused on the ever nearing Lonely Mountain. They trained, unfocused, on the shoreline, where, he remembered, the ruins of Dale remained. But still, his mind was far from the once splendorous city, nor did it obsess on the hidden splendor tainted by Smaug. The sounds in his ears were not screams or roars, or even lapping water, though it had a musical quality he was trying hard to forget.

"It was for the best, Thorin."

Thorin Oakenshield turned at the soft voice of his oldest friend, Balin. The white bearded dwarf had gently moved up to where his King had stood stoically at the helm, and Thorin noticed keenly how the others in the craft had shifted away, immersed in low murmurings of their own. Thorin resisted the urge to smile, but Balin caught the sentimental gleam in his eye, usually reserved for his nephews without their knowing. He turned his attention back to Balin, and then he only gave the hint of a smile.

"How is it you seem to always know what bothers my mind, old friend?"

Balin's eyes, while serious, held a twinkle of mirth.

"It's because I am such an old friend I can recognize your pattern of thought." The mirth was then replaced with compassion. "You made the right decision, Thorin."

The King sighed and turned away from Balin, his dark eyes once again unfocused on the horizon.

"I know, I know, Balin, my head tells me that. It tells me he was too weak, too sick to finish now, that he may have died before going in, he may still die yet, and that he's too weak for any battle. I know making him rest was the right decision. In my mind." Thorin drew quiet, knowing Balin would sense where his doubts lay.

"But in your heart, lad?" Balin prompted.

Thorin sighed, and the image of his dark haired nephew swam before his eyes, the broken expression and wasting pallor haunting him like a wraith.

"In my heart…in my heart, by all rights, he needs to be here now. In my heart, he has made me proud as a warrior and prince and he deserves to take this quest. In my heart, I know that pushing him away, leaving him behind is killing him, breaking his heart, and it's all my fault. In my heart, I know he probably will not live long enough to join us…join me…all because he was brave enough to take a chance no one else saw."

Balin was silent during Thorin's confession, something he rarely did. But Balin found long ago that, in fact, Thorin often would talk long, if the subject was of great importance. And his nephews were first in that category, always.

"Lad, there be no worry. Oin is a fine healer, and I choose to put faith in that he will have Kili up and blazing in a short time. Bofur has no doubt caught up to them, and Fili is there with his brother. They will help him."

"Fili." Thorin murmured. "And Kili. My sister's sons. And I have abandoned them. Kili, sick and dying, trying to fight for me, and Fili, brave and loyal, proud to fight me for him. Balin, you've known them almost as long as me. They'll be alright?"

Balin didn't answer, but instead posed another question, of equal importance.

"You seem to have forgotten someone. Your brother's daughter, Linnor. She is a Durin as much as they, or was all talk at the docks only that?"

"Balin…" Thorin growled as a warning. "I do not want to talk about her. I do not claim to have lied to her, but neither did I part truthful. Admittedly, she has wrought a change in me…us…the story, but does she really belong? Did she ever? Can she ever call Erebor home if she herself doubts it, or refuses to let go of another home that kept her prisoner, safe but alone? Could I ever love her as I do my sister sons? She is in part my brother, but in part an enemy I have chosen long to ignore. But I cannot…at the last, she chose the elves over dwarves. If that is her loyalty now, how can it even change? How can I love and trust her as before, or as with my lads?"

"You let them go."

"What?"

"I said, Thorin, you let the boys go. You love them, and so you let Kili go on the quest, even when you feared it may cost his life. You let Fili go to his brother in his time of need, even when you wished he stay with you."

"Balin, reach your point before we reach the shore."

"You also let Linnor go."

Thorin froze in his place, his eyes glazed over as her image, the last image of her face, swam into his mind's eye as she sang, as Balin's words hit home.

" _Well you only need the light when it's burning low_

 _only miss the sun when it starts to snow_

 _only know you love her when you let her go_

 _only know you've been high when you're feeling low_

 _only hate the road when you're missing home_

 _only know you love her when you let her go._

 _And you let her go."_

But it wasn't her voice that rang in his ears. Thorin stared down at the aged dwarf beside him, his own stoic mask hiding the turmoil of emotions he felt. He opened his mouth to speak, to seek assurance or to yell he wasn't quite sure.

"I don't-"

"Milord Thorin." A Laketown guard steering the boat called out from the rear. "We have reached the docks. This is where I leave you."

The whole company stood then and, after an eternity, gazed upon the edge of the ruins of Dale, city of the gates of Erebor. They had reached the Lonely Mountain at last.


	38. Chapter 38: Blunt Words, Bent Rules

**A/N: This is really short, and I apologize, but I wanted to squeeze in a little perspective from Bilbo, seeing as I've accidentally all but cut him out of the story completely. Not my intention! It just happened. Anyways, I used a beloved song from Tolkien's own genius that I'm sure all Hobbit lovers will recognize. I don't own a thing. Hopefully, I will have a longer update for you guys later tonight. I'll see how many reviews come in *wink wink***

 **ENJOY!**

* * *

Bilbo looked down in saddened horror at the sight before his eyes. Dale was no more than burned, charred bones of a once prosperous city. In his mind's eye (hobbits tend to have a bit of a knack for architectural flair and design) Bilbo could visualize how the shattered blackened stones were once gleaming pathways, polished windows and delicate artwork, exquisite designs, colorful banners and music and laughter and everyday chatter, and the intricately placed stalls and shops and-

Bilbo blinked and the picture was gone, replaced by broken pieces, echoes of screams and burning and decay, and the overwhelming feeling of sadness.

"Dale…" Bilbo turned around to see the others staring exactly as he was: open mouthed, torn eyes, wih nothing but the overwhelming truth of desolation long forgotten. Ori was clutching his journal, ever the scribe, but Bilbo wasn't sure this was one memory he wanted to draw out. It was one he wasn't sure he wanted to remember, but he knew, with a sick finality, he would. Unsurprisingly, Thorin was the first to move.

"We have less than a day to reach the door. Then Durin's Day will be upon us, and our last chance to open the mountain. No more stops until necessary. Everyone pulls their own weight now. If you fall behind, you'll stay behind. Thorin made a pointed glance at Bombur, then at Bilbo.

The hobbit huffed but ignored the small jibe. He's already proven, to his standards anyway, that he could well keep up with the dwarves. This wasn't Thorin's usual gruff pride talking. There was a sense of something else, something far more poisonous than that, and Bilbo could see that a few of the others were worried as well, Balin and Dwalin primarily. After a brief, tense pause, Thorin slowly reached inside his inner pocket and withdrew two items Bilbo scarcely remembered he'd had: a large, solid ironwork key, and a thin, folded piece of parchment.

The map and key to the Lonely Mountain.

* * *

Bilbo trekked wearily behind Nori, the company in single file as Thorin led the way up a broken path up the side of the mountain. It was eerily quiet, with only distracted scratchings to fill the air as Ori tried to capture whatever caught his interest. Bilbo sighed, missing the off-key whistling Bofur would usually supply, his attempt at a little optimism. Or Oin's constant complaints on his deafness but his ability to hear an insult always coming through clearly, which made for some interesting quarrels.

Or Fili and Kili's rambunctious jokes and laughter, trying to keep spirits light. They always kept things light. Bilbo let out a sigh. And then there was Linnor. The hobbit had noticed she hadn't been the same since Mirkwood, and he had his guesses why, but after the feast, she had fallen apart and disappeared. When she had finally come back, it was to say goodbye. If she was here, things wouldn't be this quiet. If she was here, -

" _Blunt the knives bend the forks…"_

A few eyes glanced around at the hobbit as he started the old familiar tune under his breath. Bilbo smirked a little and kept his head down.

" _Smash the bottles and burn the corks…"_

Now a few heads had turned, and their pace had slowed. Bilbo didn't know if Thorin would appreciate the evident reminder of his absent kin. But he didn't turn, so Bilbo kept going, hoping maybe…

" _Chip the glasses and crack the plates…"_

Bilbo paused, seeing the eleven dwarves pause as well. The lingering silence dragged on, as well as the teasing next line that hung in the air. After another long pause, Bilbo sighed again and started forward. Maybe he couldn't-

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" Gloin's gruff growl startled everyone at that moment, and all eyes turned from the Halfling to the red-bearded ax-wielder. The dwarf in question simply shrugged.

"The lads did make up a catchy verse or two."

"Aye." Balin, it seemed, was trying to old in a laugh. "That they did." The older dwarf chanced a look at Thorin, who was still turned away. "Ah, well…. _cut the cloth, trail the fat-"_

" _Leave the bones on the bedroom mat-"_ Bilbo chimed in again but Nori already had him beat.

" _Pour the milk on the pantry floor…."_

" _Splash the wine on every door!"_ the dwarves chorused.

" _Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl_

 _pound them up with a thumping pole_

 _and when you've finished if any are whole._

 _Send them down the hall to role!"_

For the first time in a long while, they erupted into a chorus of laughter. It was refreshing, to say the least, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins-"

"Enough!" Thorin's order was low, but everyone froze at the sound. "You are mistaken if you think that childish songs are in any way appropriate now. This is not a game. This is not the Shire. This is Erebor, and inside that mountain is Smaug. Behind us, armies of Orcs, Elves, and Men intent on stopping us at any cost. So be silent. Be silent and walk with me. Or walk away. I only ask respect and diligence in this final step." Thorin's dark eyes glared stormily at all of them, but Bilbo had gotten considerably good at reading the emotions behind the dark wall, and for a moment, Bilbo saw the pain Thorin would never really show. "We'll make camp in a few hours, only to rest and then we move, But for now, we keep climbing. Keep moving into the mountain. GO."

And they did, without another word.


	39. Chapter 39: Song of the Misty Mountains

**A/N: Almost there…You guys have been waiting so patiently for more Linnor/Legolas moments and that time is almost here! I've told a few of you what my plans are, so if you really want to now, PM me. But until then…you have wait until the next chapter! I know! So close! Until then, enjoy these songs.**

 **I reference Tolkien's Misty Mountains song, used in the film, but I also use Song of The Lonely Mountain by Neil Finn.**

 **I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I wanted Fili and Kili to have more of a moment, which the movie never really gave us. Please comment your thoughts! I hope you like this installment!**

* * *

It was getting late. The sun had nearly set, the long shadows stretching across the docks and still waters. The lamps casted an orange glow on the too quiet scene. Fili couldn't help but feel at unease as the light's flickering flame reminded him of the much larger reality the others would soon face, without them.

Fili sighed and turned from the windows of Bard's hut. Kili was quiet now, but Oin had attributed that to the rising fever. No doubt he would awake in pain soon, as his leg deteriorated. Bard had ushered his girls to the closed off beds and had left with his son a few hours ago for some reason Fili couldn't bring himself to care about now. Oin, Linnor and himself stood grim watch over his little brother, his Kili, as he lay dying almost at the doorstep of Erebor. But this was not Erebor. This was a grimy, rotting table in the wet hut of a Laketown Man.

Briefly, Fili felt a flare of anger towards his brother. Sure, his quick thinking had saved all their hides back in Mirkwood, but his recklessness not only was killing him slowly, but it had robbed Thorin of two of his best fighters, the both of them, him especially as the heir to be King, to see the door open on the halls of their fathers, of Durin-

Fili's thoughts were cut short as Kili let out a whimper of pain, his eyes clenched shut to prevent the tears from spilling out, to no avail. Fili went to his brother's side, his stomach sinking in guilt. His brother needed him, and what was he doing? Blaming him was not going to help anyone, least of all Kili.

"Fee?" Kili's voice was soft and timid, almost like he wasn't sure he'd really be there. That killed him.

"Yeah, Kili, I'm here."

"Where's Bofur?"

At that, Fili paused, a little unsure how to answer that. Bofur, according to Linnor, had run out shortly after they had imposed on Bard's house again, and he still hadn't returned. Fili wanted to have faith that whatever had run through the toymaker's mind was going to be helpful, but the dwarf had had a lot to drink and it was entirely possible he was passed out in the pig pen.

"He-oh,well-he'll be back soon, Kee. Don't worry."

"Fili?" Kili's eyes were still closed, and weakly he raised a clammy hand, and Fili immediately took hold. It was killing him to see his rowdy brother reduced to almost nothing, when he could still remember them only a week or so ago, laughing and sparring, and as children, always together, always running.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

A lump lodged in the elder's throat, nearly making him choke. He could feel tears threatening to fall, but he couldn't let them. He wouldn't. Not with Linnor watching, Oin and the girls listening, and Kili needing, needing his big brother.

"Sorry for what, brother?"

"I'm sorry I made you miss the door. Made you worry and now you're missing everything. You should be there. You're going to be King one day. This is your birthright, and you threw it away. If I hadn't been too slow, you'd be there now. And I-" Kili grimaced in pain. "I'm sorry, Fili. I never meant-" Fili was quick to hush him, guilt burning in his chest.

"Kili, you have nothing to be sorry for. I chose to stay behind. I belong with you, brother, and we both deserve to see the door. Together. We are both Thorin's heirs. Together, we are the line of Durin. I never would have made it this far without you, and that goes beyond this stupid quest. We're a team, Kee, and teams don't split up. I would never have left you behind. Hey, hey, hey, picture it Kili. Far over misty mountains cold, to dungeons deep and caverns old, you know."

"We must away," Kili gave a weak laugh, "ere break of day. Oin-"

"To find our long forgotten gold, laddie, I hear ya fine." the aforementioned dwarf came to the other side of Kili. Fili noticed Linnor was still hanging back by the window. He caught her eye after a pause and waved her over.

"You're a part of this too, Linnor. Whether or not you come all the way to the mountain or you go back through the others, you need to know what you're a part of now." Fili whispered as she crept close, relying on Kili's inertness and Oin's deafness for privacy. But Linnor only closed her eyes, as if in pain.

"I don't know anything for certain anymore. I've been torn and confused for a while now, and every decision seems to be the wrong one. My heart-Fili, some days, I just wish I never-"

"Linnor?"

Kili's soft voice halted her, forever stopping what she was going to confess. Her tormented eyes met his and then she looked away.

"Linnor, sing. Please? I always feel-good-when you sing. Can you-what we tried-before?" Kili's phrases were short and slurred, and Fili noticed his breathing was harsh. Kili was getting worse. Linnor glanced up and Fili knew she knew the same. He didn't have long if they didn't do something. But what? Fili's eyes watered with tears as he realized he might actually lose his brother.

" _Far over the Misty Mountains rise_

 _Leave us standing upon the heights_

 _What was before_

 _We see once more_

 _Our kingdom a distant light"_

It wasn't the same, but it was so, so close. And it seemed to soothe Kili nonetheless. Fili went to give Linnor a grateful smile, but she was lost again inside her head.

" _Fiery mountain beneath the moon_

 _The words unspoken, we'll be there soon._

 _For home, a song that echoes on_

 _And all who find us will know the tune."_

A low thrum echoed in the small space, and Fili saw Oin's intense focus. He was humming, low and bass. Linnor had become lost in her song, her mind clearly so deep in a place Fili wished he could follow. It must be nice, to escape if only for a moment, the harsh death that was his living reality.

" _Some folk we never forget_

 _some kind we never forgive_

 _Haven't seen the back of it yet_

 _We'll fight as long as we live."_

Yes. Fight. They are Durins. It's what they do best. Fight, Kili. Please. To go back without-

" _All eyes on the hidden door_

 _To the Lonely Mountain borne_

 _We'll ride in the gathering storm_

 _Until we get our long forgotten gold."_

The song ended in a dim silence, with only the lanterns glow and Kili's soft breathing. Suddenly, the door slammed open. The girls shrieked and Fili leapt for a weapon that wasn't there. Kili, surprisingly, didn't move at all, and was silent.

It was Bofur, his hat askew. The kindly dwarf looked crazed, his eyes wild and his armor scuffed with dirt. In his hand was a tangle of weeds.

"Ah. He's till alive, then?" Bofur smiled at the small group, who stood still in shock.

"Where in the blazes have you been?" Oin snarled coldly at the toymaker.

Bofur deflated a little then, his big eyes wounded and his smile slipped quickly off his face. Fili would have felt bad, except he, too, was angry at Bofur's long abandonment and complete waste of time in having them be worried over two of them. He scoffed and turned back to his little brother, who seemed to have gotten paler.

"You were gone all day, Bofur. Whatever it was, it better have been important."

"Ah." Bofur stepped forward and held out the scrubby handful of weeds. "Kingsfoil. This is how we save Kili."


	40. Chapter 40: I See Fire

**A/N: It's finally here! The chapter you've been dying for! I worked really hard on this one, and I tried to live up to your expectations. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think about it!**

 **The song is I See Fire by Ed Sheeran, and I do not own this nor the Hobbit.**

* * *

The moon had risen high into the night sky, but that's all that had changed. They were all standing exactly as they were when Bofur had burst through the hut door and declared he knew they could save Kili.

"Kingsfoil?" Oin finally moved towards the other dwarf, reaching for the flowery weed. "Did you really find-Bofur, you drunken genius!"

Linnor couldn't help it: she laughed. It was broken and nervous and hiding obvious, terrified sobs, but it relieved some of the tension that had enveloped them all moments before. Bofur gave a bashful smile, bowing only slightly, his hat tipping over his eyes. Fili hadn't yet moved, his spine rigid and his eyes dark with worry as it got late. But Linnor knew that if there was a chance, he would take it without hesitations.

"Alright, enough with ya self-praising." Oin gave Bofur a right smack with his trumpet and snatched the herb away. "We nee to start this up quickly. Kili doesn't have much time on his side, and neither do we. The moon has risen high. The others may have reached the mountain and woken the beast. We need to prepare for anything. Come. Uh…girls? Lass, uh, ladies? Blast it-Linnor, can you go get….?"

Linnor nodded and hurried to the curtain separating the two rooms where Sigrid and Tilda had hidden after Bofur's entrance. Another time, not as long ago as she quaintly wished, she might have laughed and teased Oin as he blundered his words. Another time, Linnor thought with a pang, she had never known this life, this family…her family. Whatever unhappiness she had confessed to Faolan, that long time ago, at least it hadn't been heartbreak.

"Sigrid? Tilda? Bofur's back and we need-"

"Linnor!"

Sigrid's voice interrupted Linnor, but the note of unease crept through, overlaying Linnor's brief annoyance, and she whirled the curtain aside.

The truth was the bedroom was little more than an alcove, a small corner with only a second flimsy divider between to cots. The larger one, supposedly for Bard and Bain, was disheveled and pushed up against the farthest wall with a large window above it. The second smaller cot, Sigrid's and Tilda's, was against the opposite wall, and that was where both girls huddled close, their gazes fixed on the dark window, a stream of moonlight spilling in and mixing with the lamplights orange glow.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Linnor dropped her voice to a whisper. Something was dreadfully wrong. A feeling of discomfort slowly made it's way to the center of her chest and settled there.

Sigrid managed to turn her glazed watch onto Linnor, Tilda acting as if she hadn't heard. Linnor didn't think she had.

"There was a face. At the window." Sigrid's voice was hoarse with fear, and a chill seemed to sink into Linnor's skin like the icy damp of the town.

"Did you get a good look?" Linnor prompted, knowing full well at Tilda's silent, doe-eyed expression that she, at least, had. At this, the little girl finally nodded, her face stricken and determined.

"It was-"

"Linnor! Girls! We need you now!" Oin's throaty voice called through from the other room. Linnor started back, then turned towards the two children.

"Come on, in here. Keep your mind off of whatever it was, for now. Tilda, you can tell me later, but for now, everyone should be together. Oin needs your help. Come."

The girls hurried past Linnor and into the kitchen. Linnor was about to follow when she turned back around. Something had moved, she was sure, outside the window. Black and hunched, it had leapt up past to the roof. Linnor gulped apprehensively. This was not good. As she slowly made her way into the front room, there was a soft creak from up above, small thuds and groans that made them all pause. Kili's eyes, barely open, even flickered at the noises on the rooftop. Fili's own eyes narrowed and he reached for a kitchen knife, the only real weapon in the small home. Bard had taken his bow and arrows earlier when he and Bain left. They were defenseless.

Slowly, the creaks and groans moved from one end of the roof to the other until they all ended up facing the door, their eyes on the ceiling, waiting. Then…nothing. It was silent, and it was pressing.

"Tilda…" Linnor moved her eyes to the door and front window, but avoided the youngest girl in the corner, "what was it you saw before?"

Tilda swallowed, clearly uncomfortable and more than a little frightened. Linnor felt a tiny prickle of guilt, but squashed it beneath her turmoiling emotions. There was no time for than now.

"It was big bigger n' me, and it had awful pointy teeth and whitish eyes and torn skin and it leered at me, and it's tongue looked black, and-and-" Tilda stopped then, and Linnor though maybe the memory was too much for her, but when she chanced to look, her eyes were wide open and staring straight ahead.

Linnor whirled around just as the window behind Sigrid shattered and a snarling body threw itself in.

"ORC ATTACK!" Fili yelled, moving forward with the blade. The orc grinned, showing its nasty broken teeth and whirled under Fili's arm, knocking him aside roughly as the door burst open.

Three more orcs hissed into the hut, one swinging in the window, ignoring the shards of glass that pricked its skin. With a yell, Oin leapt at the nearest one, sending them both to the floor in a clash. Linnor tore to the counter ad whirled wielding a large iron pot, crushing the skull of another creature. A shrill scream broke the sounds of bloodshed and Linnor focused on a large, nasty, vile thing leering towards the girls, who had taken cover under the table. Linnor grabbed a dish off the side top and chucked it at the orc, turning its ichorous eyes to her.

For a flicker of an instant, Linnor remembered back in Mirkwood the first time the thrill of battle had thundered in her veins. She felt it all now. The tunnel vision to her enemy, the thrum of sudden adrenalin, the background sounds (Kili yelling in pain as he collapsed off the table, Fili letting a roar escape in rage, Tilda's crying, Oin's growl, Bofur's battle cry as he smothered a monster in his hat), all faded to the white noise in her ears as the orc moved towards her.

And it froze, a screech barely passing its lips. As her vision refocused, Linnor saw why. A thin arrow protruded out of its head right between its bulging eyes. An elf arrow. Linnor turned back to the door, her chest tight, hardly daring to believe she could be so lucky.

Legolas.

The blond elf nimbly maneuvered his way into the home, neatly dispatching orcs the others struggled with, their lack of weapons making it harder in defeat. As Legolas moved in, another shadow closed in behind him. Linnor almost cried out when she saw it wasn't an orc, but another elf, dressed head to toe in a midnight blue cloak, the hood covering their face. The second newcomer moved into the hut with a furious speed until, finally, the orcs were dead. Linnor could still hear the screams-wait. No, she could still hear the screams. With a jolt of sudden fear, Linnor realized that the orcs that attacked them were only a small number. There were more…in the village.

As if reading her thoughts, Legolas yanked an arrow from an orc skull and started out the door.

"Wait!" Linnor's feet unstuck and she was out the door behind him, ignoring the calls from behind her from her cousin. She paused again on the front stairs, trying to spot the glinting blonde hair from the darkness.

"Legolas…" Linnor could feel her heart constrict as she failed to find him, and the tears she had pushed away threatened to fall at last.

"Yes, milady?"

And then he was in front of her. The Mirkwood Prince dropped down out of the stars (or rather, from the roof) and in front of her eyes. She stood staring with an open mouth at the elf before her, a handsome prince she never thought she'd see again.

"You cannot think I would leave without at least speaking to you, can you? Especially after the way you left things at last we met?" Legolas smirked as Linnor blushed. The memory was strong, of her leaping into the rushing waters with orcs invading the elven borders. The memory of her final words, of her whispered "I'm sorry" and "I love you", was stronger still.

"I had to go. Legolas, if this is to end in fire, then we shall all burn together. Should my people fall, then surely I'll do the same. I had to go with my family then, until I knew in my heart where my path lay. My home. I'm still not sure, but for now….and in that moment…I made the right choice in leaving. I'm sorry."

"And what about your words, Linnor? Are you sorry for those as well?" Legolas's fingers came up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, and his hand stayed to cup her cheek. Linnor knew she should move away, should go inside before her heart was damaged anymore. But she couldn't, not when she was staring into those ice blue eyes that deserved to know the truth.

"No." her voice whispered. "No, I don't apologize for my words. Those were real. They will always be real and true. I knew it when I saw you that first time, so long ago to me now, yet it's so very clear to me as right now. I love you, Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas's hand cupped her cheek more firmly, and she pressed into it as his other hand reached her other cheek. Her breath caught, her heart beating erratically and her body flush.

"And I…I love you, Linnor Alea Sathren, Princess of Rivendell, and of Erebor. I love you, Linnor. My heart is yours."

He lowered his lips then to hers, brushing them gently at first, but Linnor felt the fire burn as fiercely as the distant stars. She closed her eyes and let Legolas claim the kiss for the moment. Her hands reached up to circle his neck, brushing the silky softness of his fine hair as she, too, cupped the cheeks of her love. She held his face to hers firmly, yet with a gentle passion she never knew she owned. Legolas, too, held her fast against him, but there was a peaceful gentleness to his urgency. His lips moved soft and quick over hers, sending sparks into her closed eyes and alighting her veins on fire. Her heart was close to bursting.

All too soon, she felt him pull away, and felt the wetness on her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open into his, the love and sadness she felt so clearly reflected.

"Stay safe." he whispered.

"Come back." she replied, just as soft.

And with a leap, Legolas leapt off the balcony and onto the bridge below. Linnor saw the shadows darting there and in between, and soon Legolas was no more than that. Linnor hear a sharp cry and realized she had all but forgotten her cousins inside. She hurried in, subdued, her body still flamed from the heated moment before, and saw the hooded elf pressing the Kingsfoil to Kili's wound.

"What's happening?" Linnor saw Oin standing a few feet away. The dwarvish healer turned, and if he noticed Linnor's flustered appearance, he was tactful enough not to comment.

"Ciranel, I think she said it was her name, is using an old elvish magic to save him. A real treat."

Something, a warning bell maybe, sounded off in the back of her mind, but to what Linnor didn't know. This was becoming too much. Instead of watching the elf, Linnor instead turned back to the remains of the window, to the huge moon and flames in the distance.

" _Oh, Misty Eye of the mountain below_

 _Keep careful watch o'er my lover's soul_

 _And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke_

 _Keep watching over Durin's sons."_

Linnor pressed her forehead to the window pane, avoiding the shards of glass, the words echoing in her head.

" _I see fire, inside the mountain_ …"

"Come back." she whispered, no longer sure who it was she was talking to.


	41. Chapter 41: Ciranel

**A/N: Okay, here is another chapter, albeit a shorter one than I intended. Here's where I had a breakthrough, though I'm thinking some people may have a breakdown. If you're really laser focused on this story, you'll already know cause I said the mystery elf's NAME!**

 **Anyway, the song I use in lyrics and thought dialogue is I Remember from The Little Mermaid 3: Ariel's Beginning. Watch it, it's pretty good! I do not own it, nor the Hobbit etc.**

 **Please review! Make my happy day a happier one!**

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Kili finally sighed, his eyes sliding shut in a peaceful, exhausted sleep that had everyone sigh in relief. Oin and Fili were off to the side, voices low, but tired relief evident in the young heir's eyes. Linnor herself was still by the window remains, her eyes on the mountain, trying to discern the lamplight from the mountain glow. Bofur had fallen asleep in a chair by the table where the elf woman still stood over Kili. Sigrid and Tilda stood opposite her, apparently awed.

"So, are you a real elf?" Tilda moved closer to the stranger. The mysterious Mirkwood lady still wore her heavy blue cloak, her hood covering the whole of her face, but Linnor could see a strand of dark hair peeking out if she tried.

"Yes." The voice was quiet, almost nervous, but amused. And familiar…there go the warning bells. But why? What, or rather, who was she forgetting?

"Do you sing, too, Ciranel? Linnor's only half-elf, and she sings most beautifully than anyone I've ever heard, even Mama. Oh, please sing! It can be a lullaby for Kili."

There was a huff of amusement from Fili, and Linnor had to smile at Tilda's childish assertiveness. To be honest, it would be pleasant to hear anyone else sing, and perhaps it would give her a clue as to who this Ciranel was. When the she-elf spoke again, she sounded like she was laughing, though not cruelly.

"All elves have a particular talent in music in some form. It's a part of our being. I am sure Linnor carries that blessing well." There was a knowing note to this, but she moved on before Linnor could think about it too much. "But I am pleased you are eager to hear me, young one. Perhaps it may help relax the lad here."

Ciranel cleared her throat and started a small melody. The hut was quiet, with only the crackling of the fireplace as underlying music.

" _La la la la la, la la la la la_

 _La la, la la…._

 _Under the bright, blue endless sky…"_

Linnor froze, turned away from the fascinated group as this elf began her song. Her thoughts were going haywire.

 _Wait. I remember that. How I know that song. And her voice…it's more than a single memory…Rivendell? No…yes, but no…I remember sitting in the moonlight and that feeling, of-of warmth and complete love. What's that feeling I remember?_

Linnor turned back around and stared at the stranger's back. A bright image flashed before her eyes: moonlight and…a cradle. She was looking up, and being rocked and soothed….she was a no more than a babe. And there was someone else, someone leaning over her, singing…

 _Yes,_ she thought, _how I know that song…I was a baby, so it's been…so long…_

A woman laughing, strong hands holding her high, making her squeal, a man's rumbling laugh, scratchy beard-

 _I remember happiness without a floor or ceiling-what's that feeling I remember-_

" _La la la la la la la la la la la_

 _la la la la la la la la la la la la la"_

The she-elf was still going, still oblivious to Linnor's shattering revelations, still singing that song-

Another memory, a face-Rivendell. A familiar face, yet so strange to her…she was no longer a baby, but not much older, and-

 _Oh!_ Linnor gasped to herself, still unnoticed by the captivated girls and dwarves. _Faolan! I remember her, and how we were…I remember her coming to me almost every day for a long, long while and for some reason, I wanted her to…I remember…singing? But why would I want her…_

" _Under the bright blue endless sky…"_ Ciranel sang.

" _Waves, try to measure_

 _the days, that we treasure-"_

Linnor's eyes stared at the blue cloak. Blue. Not green of Mirkwood as she assumed, but blue as in Rivendell colors. Faolan…Rivendell. There was something else…another memory besides it.

 _I remember…I remember this music…I remember-_

What had they called her? Ciranel-something. There was something Gandalf had said.

It had been early, after…the tunnels. When she had learned…she had asked about her mother and Gandalf had said it had been an elven woman in Elrond's court, Ciranel, who died in childbirth and had left her, the baby of a dwarf prince and elven handmaiden, in Elrond's care.

Ciranel. Her mother he said was dead. So many emotions whirled around her body, now cold, her mind now void in blank space. Ciranel stopped singing and Linnor was able to focus. She had to know.

"I know that song."

Not what she wanted to say, nor as eloquent, but it got her attention. Ciranel didn't turn, but somehow, Linnor knew she was listening.

"I remember that song. I remember my mother singing it to me as a baby. But that's something I'll bet you didn't know, huh, Faolan?"

Finally, the elf turned away from a still groggy Kili and faced Linnor now instead. She lowered her hood slowly to reveal a slim, graceful porcelain face Linnor had nearly forgotten, but still remembered in the way all elves remember the ones they hold to their hearts.

"Or Ciranel, if you'd rather. It doesn't matter. Either way, you're a stranger to me."

"Linnor-"

"Do you two…know each other?" Bofur asked, a little timidly, twisting his hat in his hands.

"Oh. How rude of me." Linnor spoke coldly and without emotion. "This is my mother. Back from the dead, apparently. Must remind me to thank the Necromancer when I get the chance. She was also my handmaiden in Rivendell since I was a girl. Not that I knew who she was, of course." Linnor's eyes grew hard and steely.

"Funny the things I remember when worlds collide."


	42. Chapter 42: Let You Go Long Ago

**A/N: Talk about a plot twist! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around this far to enjoy that surprise! I'll be sure to keep updating so you can read more! It's going to get very interesting. Sorry for another short chapter. I'm working on making them longer.**

 **The songs I use in dialogue below is Let It Go from Frozen and Naughty from the Broadway show Matilda.**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts about my writing thus far! Please and thank you!**

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It was deadly quiet for a long moment. Kili, seemingly more awake, had been moved into a chair by the fire, and the others had somewhat gathered around him, leaving Linnor staring at her old friend and newfound mother. Faolan (or rather, Ciranel) had a look of great sadness upon her face, but Linnor was carefully keeping her s blank. Daylight was a few hours off, and soon they would hear word of what went down at the Mountain. She knew as well as anyone that there simply wasn't enough time for her to ask all the questions she needed answers to. But before Linnor could even begin to break the ice, Ciranel did it for her.

"After all we have done for you…after everything Lord Elrond has given you, you run off, escape with a strange group of dwarves into the Wild? And for what, a kingdom that isn't even yours to claim? Linnor-"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Linnor broke her mask and finally let her anger show through. "You seriously think that I don't know at least part of the truth? I knew your name, Ciranel, and who you are not because of a stupid song but because I know who and what I am. I am your daughter, and the daughter of Frerin, brother of Thorin, King Under The Mountain. Don't go laying the blame on dwarves when I know that you fell in love with one all those years ago. Or at least you were stupid enough to spawn me, which is why you pretended you were dead, is that right? You were ashamed but I was your daughter and for some sick, twisted reason, you decided to lie to me, tell me my parents were either dead or didn't care, and that you would be my friend. You LIED to me!"

"Linnor, it's not what you think. You've got it all wrong!" Ciranel pleaded but Linnor cut her off angrily.

"Those dwarves are my family, the only family I have ever known, and I do mean ever known."

Ciranel's expression became shocked and hurt, but Linnor didn't give her another chance to retort.

"And all you and Elrond have ever done for is kept me locked up and made me queen of a kingdom of isolation. Look, I know now is not the time to ask why you lied to me my whole life or made me believe you were dead or abandoned me, or how any of this even happened or if Gandalf knew the whole time, or Elrond, or-or Legolas….oh Mahal, did Legolas-"

"He did not know who I was." Ciranel interrupted. "I met him as he was leaving Mirkwood and I insisted to come along. He knew not of my relationship to you."

"And what of my father?" Linnor knew she was repeating herself, but she couldn't seem to stop the flow of words and heartbreak and desperation that had broken free from her. "There are so many blanks to fill, Ciranel, because of you, and I'm doing it all on my own. I've always been on my own, always the good girl, always keeping everything inside. Conceal, don't feel. Remember? And you have the audacity to try and blame me for my need to just….let it go?"

"Um…Linnor?" Oin moved to stand between them.

"No, Oin. Not now. Kili is safe, we can all rest. I just…I can't hold it back anymore."

"I understand that, lass, and I can only assert that she deserves all your anger." Oin cast a stern glare at Ciranel, who had the decency to look away. "But now it not the best time to let it go. We have bigger problems."

At his voice, Linnor turned and her heart stopped for what seemed the hundredth time that night. Was it night? She could no longer tell. Outside the window, it was as bright as the next sun, a brilliant orange explosion of light.

Laketown was burning. They had done it, then. Smaug had awaken.

"Everybody outside now!" Linnor yelled, jumping into action. "Sigrid, Tilda, grab only a few pieces of clothing, leave the rest. Oin, Bofur, help them out. Fili, take your brother-"

"I can walk." Kili barked, limping out of his chair.

"Fine. Fili, just…stay close. Ciranel, find a way to help. Come on, we need to get to the water!" Linnor brushed past Ciranel and to the girls, who were frozen in terror. "Sigrid, Tilda, we need to go."

"But this is our home!" Sigrid's voice trembled, the fire's glow making her face ashen pale. "We cannot just leave."

"And what about Bain and-and Da…" Tilda whimpered, and Linnor was reminded how young she really was. Linnor knelt down so she was eye to eye with the girl.

"Tilda, they would want you to be safe. In fact, I know they do. They're counting on you, just like I am now, to get out and stay together and be brave." Linnor could hear the screams from the other villagers. There wasn't much time left before the fire consumed them.

"But-but," Tilda was trying very hard to voice her fear. "Bain and Sigrid and Da and you and them are all bigger and stronger and braver than me. I can't do this, Linnor. I'm too little."

"Tilda." Linnor took the girl by the shoulders. "Even if you're little, you can do a lot. You mustn't let a little thing like "little" stop you. If you sit around and let them get on top, nothing will change. If you doubt yourself because others doubt you, you will always be afraid. Understand? Just because you find that life's not fair, it doesn't mean that you just have to grin and bear it. Tilda, you are just as brave as anyone of us. I know it. Your Da knows it. You need to believe it."

Tilda gave Linnor a long, solid look, then nodded, determination written all over her small, innocent, grubby tear-stained face.

"Hurry!" Bofur stuck his head in the door, and Linnor saw that only she, Tilda and Ciranel remained.

"Go, Tilda!" Linnor gave the girl a shove towards the door, then looked back towards her mother. Her old friend gazed at her as if she no longer knew her. Linnor wondered if she was only reflecting her own emotions.

"Are you coming, or have you decided to burn then?" Linnor snapped.

She could feel the heat of the dragon's breath now on her skin. Ciranel gave her one long look, similar to Tilda's, and then hurried out the door, Linnor close behind.


	43. Chapter 43: No Escaping Tragedy

**A/N: I did a little time skip again because there is no way I can do justice to the death and fiery destruction of Laketown. Sorry if you were looking forward to that particular scene.**

 **There is a mixture of several songs' lyrics in the dialogue below.**

 **School Song from Matilda, Stay With Me from Into The Woods, Mother Knows Best from Tangled, and Strangers Like Me by Phil Collins.**

 **Please continue to review! Leave your thoughts, opinions, and predictions for how this will all turn out. You can also leave ideas for future moments between characters. I have my own basic outline that I'm following, but I'd love to incorporate some of your ideas as well. Write them down below!**

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Daylight had finally broken, the sun's gleaming rays reaching out across the water, illuminating the charred, smoking remains of boards and bodies, all that was left of Laketown. Linnor stood on the far shoreline with the remaining survivors, including Bard, Bain, and even that slimy prick, Alfred. The Master, it would seem, had sunk to the weight of his greed in the fire.

After Alfred had done his best to schmooze into Bard's good graces, the girls had run desperately to their father and brother. They were among the lucky few, it would seem. Few families were still together after Smaug's horrific rampage. Linnor watched as mothers sobbed for dead husbands and sons, children screaming out for parents, the heartbreaking pleas and gasps of relief and shock as the numbness and fear finally wore off. In front of her, Fili, Kili, Oin and Bofur were trying to salvage a small craft to cut across the lake to the mountain.

"Linnor!"

She turned numbly, a little detached from herself as she came face to face with the same Man she had been observing only moments before.

"Bard. Thank Mahal you're alive." Linnor tried to smile, to look relieved, but she had a feeling it still looked like a grimace. Bard either understood or brushed it off as he kept talking.

"My daughters told me what you did for them. There is no reward great enough for the service you and yours have done for my family. Thank you, Linnor." Bard held her gaze intently, and Linnor gave a small nod.

"Linnor! Come on, now, we need to move and check on the others!" Oin yelled from his spot in the water.

"Others?" Bard's hand shot out and grabbed onto her wrist. "You don't think they're still alive up there, do you? Smaug will have smite them to ashes!"

"No." Linnor clenched the hand Bard gripped into a tight fist, her eyes steel. "They are alive. Durin's line will not be broken in a simple, valiant effort. They are alive. My uncle, the king, is alive and you will do kindly to let me go."

Slowly, with a hurt air, Bard released her and stepped away. He was silent for a long moment, allowing the noises of distraught town folk fill the void.

"So." Bard said, his voice cold. "You think you're able to survive this mess by being a prince…or a princess? Linnor, that is not how life works. There's no escaping tragedy. Just look at our town! Our homes…the entirety of Laketown is ash and bone. Even if we put in heaps of effort, we're wasting energy. Face it: life as we know it is ancient history. It's best if you go home, Linnor. Be safe. Or stay with us, out of danger."

"And abandon my family?" Linnor shook her head. "Enough. Let me make my decisions, Bard, whatever they be. I am not dumb. I know this will have changed everything. But let me be very clear: I am not asking your permission."

"I had a feeling you would say that." A new voice interrupted. Bard moved to the side and suddenly Linnor felt as if a remaining flame had leapt inside her veins and thawed the numbness.

"Legolas!" Linnor pushed past the Man and reached out to her love. Legolas met her embrace and held her close and tightly to his body. Linnor locked her arms around his neck, her face nuzzling into his armor clad chest, trying to rein her emotions in. She felt a soft pressure on the top of her head and pulled back as he raised his lips from her hair.

"You came back," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed happiness, a small smile playing on her lips.

"You stayed safe." Legolas gave a small, joking smile in return, but the relief in his eyes was as clear as glass. "Linnor, I know you have to go to your family. Your friends are nearly done with the boat and we do not have much time in any case. I cannot stay with you now."

Linnor's breath caught in her throat. He must have sensed her panic because, in a flash, she was tucked back into his chest.

"Be still, love. That is not what I meant. There is a…place I must travel to now. I am in pursuit of some of the orc-bred spawn from the other night. But I could not leave without seeing that you were safe."

"She will stay that way yet, Legolas."

Linnor's face hardened as she turned away from the comfort of her love's arms to face Ciranel, who stood suddenly above her with awkward nervousness.

"Ciranel-" she began, but Legolas stopped her.

"You have something you wish to discuss with Linnor." he nodded." Very well. I will go." He brought Linnor back to him gently.

"I will come back." His eyes gazed intently into hers, giving a promise Linnor hoped was possible to keep.

"I will stay safe." Linnor replied and very gently, very quickly, she leaned in to brush her lips against his before stepping away. A flash of sorrow came across the elf's face and then he turned and was gone.

Linnor sighed as she took her gaze from the spot he vanished from and rested it instead now on her mother.

"What is so important that you must disrupt me once again?" Linnor's voice held no emotion, of which she was proud seeing as, inside, she was a raging storm.

"Linnor…" Ciranel began to reach for her daughter, but seemed to think better of it. "I know you are angry with me, as you have every right to be. I've deceived you grievously, and you must have so many questions to demand of me. I cannot answer them now as you'd like, but when we return-"

"We?" Linnor gave a sharp laugh. "I am not going anywhere with you, Mother. You can go back to Rivendell, but that is no longer my home."

"So you choose to stay with strangers you barely know rather than with me."

"You are a stranger to me, too!" Linnor hissed. "I don't know you, Ciranel, at all. But they are strangers like me. I want to know. Can you show me? They are so familiar to me now, unlike you. Their world, my world, is somewhere I belong and I need to go with them. I want to go."

"You need to stay with me!" Ciranel exclaimed, but Linnor was surprised to see panic tinged with the sadness in her mother's eyes. "Don't you know what's out there in the world?"

"In case you've forgotten, we've been traveling for a few months-"

"Someone has to shield you. Look at you, still just a child. Stay with me."

"I can shield myself. I am not a child, Mother. Not anymore, and no thanks to you. I'm a Durin, a warrior and a survivor!" Linnor tried to interject but Ciranel did not heed.

"I know your feelings to Legolas. You've given your heart so readily." Linnor blushed deeply and looked away. "Princes wait there in the world, it's true. But there are wolves, wargs, orcs and humans too! Stay-"

"Why?" Linnor took a step back. "Why should I? I've met monsters and beasts, I've killed and changed and lost myself again and again. I am not that girl from Rivendell, Ciranel."

"I am your mother. Please, listen to me. It's a scary world out there. The world is dark and wild. Please…stay a child while you can be a child. Please, Linnor." Ciranel reached for her, but Linnor had had enough.

"You are not my mother, Faolan! It may be true by blood, but that does not mean we are family. They are my family. Legolas means more to me than you. You are a stranger. I am not a child. I haven't been for years. I know the world. I know how fearsome it is. But I am not running back to a lie! A prison!" Linnor paused then looked her former friend and newfound mother with a sad fury.

"I do have questions. I want to know the story. But I don't need it. Not now. I will find you if I need it. But not now. Now, I don't care where you go or what you do. But I am not staying."

Linnor turned abruptly and made her way to the water where the others waited with the boat. As she got in, Linnor settled down low on the boat and saw her mother standing almost in the water several feet away.

"Goodbye, Ciranel. Faolan….Mother. Whoever you are." Linnor whispered as Oin pushed them into the lake away from the shore.


	44. Chapter 44: Whirlwind of Emotion

**A/N: I promise I'm working on getting to the main point of BOTFA, but frankly, I was devastated by that movie and I want to make my favorite characters live just a little longer. That is not a spoiler: if you've seen the movies, you know how that goes.**

 **The songs below are:**

 **Part of You World from The Little Mermaid**

 **Breakeven from The Script**

 **I Don't Know My Name by Grace Vanderwaal**

 **I do not own these songs, nor do I own the Hobbit characters, places, etc.**

 **Please feel free to comment and review below. I look forward to it!**

By Oin's calculations, it would take about half a day to reach the shoreline of the mountain, and the other half to climb up to the entrance of Erebor. The secret door was no doubt sealed off now, so if the others had indeed survived Smaug, they would have begun to open the main gate. According to Oin, that is.

Linnor sighed and leaned against the side of the little boat, watching the water slip by gently. Her face stared back at her, the reflection rippling and distorted. With the dreary sky above her, and the waves continuing to change her features, Linnor couldn't help but suddenly see her mother's face instead of hers. An uncomfortable sadness pierced into her and Linnor trailed her fingers into the image to fade it away.

"Linnor?" Bofur's voice called her attention, but she kept her focus on her reflection, making only the softest noise to show she had heard him. "Um…well, that Lady fair, uh, Ciranel…she was, I mean to say, she is your, well…your-"

"She is my mother, yes." Linnor cut off the kindly dwarf, her tone cold and curt. "She was also my friend, my only friend, and handmaiden in Rivendell. She told me her name was Faolan. I never…" she trailed off, lost in old, painful memories.

* * *

 _She remembered it clearly. She had been young, but not so much that she couldn't easily recall the overbearing loneliness of her big room, or the dampness ever present on her cheeks, or the view from her balcony, the open world just out of her reach._

 _Then, suddenly, there were voices speaking, right outside her door. She had carefully moved back into the room, staring hopefully at the splendored wood. There was a minute of silence, in which she feared that whoever it was had left once again. She wished somebody would come in. She had been kept in this room as long as she could remember. Only Lord Elrond had appeared to tell her that this was her home, where she would remain in peace. When she had tried to ask questions, if only one, she was silenced and he left._

 _Since then, he had not returned. And neither had anyone else. Of course, there was a maiden or two who came up to attend to her every few hours or so, but nobody she knew. They were not her mother, nor her father. And she was starting to forget._

 _There was a click as the door unlocked and slowly, it opened. An elf lady stepped cautiously into the room, and Linnor couldn't help the squeal of happiness that escaped her lips._

" _Mama!"_

 _The woman froze for only a second before melting off the wall and coming to meet her, her face kind and gentle and sad._

" _No, Linnor. I am not your mother. You parents…"she paused, "cannot be with you. I am here to be your friend, if you would wish."_

 _Linnor, only a little girl, frowned for a few minutes, trying to hold back the tears of frustration and sadness welling up. But eventually, she looked at the Imladris elf sweetly and nodded. The woman smiled and clasped her hands together._

" _My name is…Faolan." she sighed. "Faolan."_

* * *

Linnor blinked, coming out of her memory, aware that the others were watching her.

"Lass…" Oin spoke, clearing his throat awkwardly. "If you wanted to go with your mother…you would have gotten answers, and it was where you wanted to return to, as you told Thorin. Rivendell was your home near all your life, and you are still very much a part of their world."

"But I don't want to be." Linnor barked. "I know what I said, but that was before I knew it was all a lie. How can I go back now, when…I just…I don't know anymore, Oin. I've changed so much. How can I ever…Mahal, I don't know what I want or who I am! I can't-"she broke off, her chest heaving in overwhelming panic. She turned around to face the others, who were gazing at her with a mix of shock and pity.

" _I don't know my name…"_ Linnor sang softly, her voice still broken with emotions she had been bottling up since before the desolation of Smaug.

" _I don't play by the rules of the game, so you say_

 _I'm just trying…_

 _Just trying…"_

Kili reached out and gently took her hand in his own. He didn't say a single word, but just let his newfound calm comfort her. She smiled tiredly at him in thanks.

" _I heard that we are Durin's heirs_

 _we get along quite nicely_

 _But you ask me why I break apart and change myself_

 _Completely."_

Linnor took a breath, and a tear slid down her cheek. Her chest felt tight. Was this how she'd always be? Unbalanced, heartbroken, confused….weak?

"I am lost." she whispered.

" _Trying to get found in an ocean of_

 _People_

 _Please don't ask me any questions_

 _I can't give a valid answer._

 _But I don't know my name."_

Linnor paused, unsure how to convey the rest of her tumult of feelings.

"But," she spoke, "I do know that I can't go back to Rivendell, not knowing what I know. I can never be a part of that world again. I know that I need to be-I want to be with my real family. I want to see Erebor like you've told me. I am, and I want to be, part of your world."

There was silence for a few minutes, filled with only the sound of lapping water.

"But," Fili finally said, "don't' you want to ask her your questions and get some answers?"

"Of course!" Linnor said incredulously. "Just because I don't know myself doesn't mean I don't know what I wish. But that's all I can do now. Wish. I don't know how else to make you understand what I'm going through, Fili."

"Try then!" Fili burst out, his body jerking in annoyance and causing the boat to rock. "For once, Linnor, just try and put whatever you want to sing into real words and just say it! We want to understand. You're my little cousin! Let me in."

"You want to know what I'm feeling?" Linnor snarled, suddenly furious. "Like I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing. I'm still struggling to accept so much, Fili. Everything I believed about myself I took from my life in Rivendell, and that has all changed. I'm not that girl anymore. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say? Faolan…my mother, she always told me bad things happen for a reason. But this…I can't just take it and move on like every other time. I'm trying to make sense of this, okay? Okay, Fili? I'm falling to pieces!"

"Linnor…" Fili spoke softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Don't." Linnor shook her head. "It's not your fault, and not your problem. I'll figure it out on my own when it's time, alright?"

No one spoke, and they fell back into silence as their Laketown boat finally hit the shoreline of the Lonely Mountain.


	45. Chapter 45: Down The Road

**A/N: You guys are absolutely fantastic. The reviews, follows, and favorites are so very nice and I love seeing you guys respond to my writing. Thanks so much! Can you believe we are 45 chapters deep? Wow. Sorry this is a short one, but the next few are so much longer so it'll balance out.**

 **You know what's coming:**

 **Hey Brother by Avicii**

 **Welcome To My Life by Simple Plan**

 **Ease on Down The Road by Matthew Morrison**

 **Once again, I own nothing by my own two characters. Feel free to comment and review below!**

* * *

It was a rough walk. The first several leagues consisted of nothing but rubble and debris and mountain rock, making walking a strenuous chore, especially for Kili, whose leg obviously still pained him. Linnor, who was still in her singed Laketown attire (which was technically from Mirkwood), was struggling to keep up with the three able dwarves as well.

"Fili!" Kili called from behind her. "Hey, brother!"

The blonde heir turned around to see his kin falling far behind them. They had started off at a good pace, Fili frowned. He eyed his cousin and little brother before noticing the limping gaits. A pang of guilt flashed through him and Fili stopped completely.

"Bofur! Oin!" Fili yelled to the two others ahead of him. "Hold!"

A few minutes later, Bofur, Oin, Linnor and Kili met up to where Fili stood, panting slightly.

"We need to rest." Fili said, glancing at his younger kin. "Just for a few minutes. We've barely had time to catch our breath since Smaug came to Laketown. We'll still make Erebor by sundown."

There was a murmur of agreement and indifference as the others simply collapsed upon the rocky terrain. They were almost off the debris, Linnor saw, as grass had started to show between the rubble and over the hill towards the gates. Linnor let out a sigh and looked to where her cousins had ended up. Kili had taken a seat on a larger piece of rock, rubbing his injury absentmindedly. Fili sat beside him, murmuring things Linnor could not hear. Instead, she closed her eyes and let them have their moment.

* * *

"Hey brother." Fili chuckled as he took a spot next to his own. Kili gave what he only assumed was a smile, but it came out more like a grimace.

"We didn't have to stop." he grumbled, not meeting Fili's eyes. "I just needed a moment to catch up. I'm not the weakest link."

"No one said you were." Fili replied evenly. "Look, we have an endless road to rediscover. But I told you before, I'm not going to do that without you. Blood is thicker than all the gold in Erebor, much more valuable than the Arkenstone."

Kili let out a huff of laughter and leaned into his brother, like he used to as a dwarfling.

"Thanks for that, I guess." He sighed and rubbed his wounded leg. "Fee? Do you ever feel…out of place?" A glance at Fili told him he wasn't understood. "Like, somehow, you just….don't belong?" His brother reached up to tangle his fingers in Kili's hair.

"What are you talking about, Kee? Thorin?"

"No. Yes. Yes, but no. I mean…this whole trip has just been proof of what Amad was worried about. I'm reckless and I nearly got myself and everyone else killed and-"

"And you saved all our skins." Fili cut him off. "Yeah, Kili, you're reckless. You always have been. But you're also smart and a good fighter and a Durin, a prince. You've always belonged here, with your family, no matter what anyone else says.

"But if I hadn't gotten hurt, you'd have gone with Thorin. Maybe my coming was all a big mistake. At least I wouldn't be such a disappointment."

"Kili." Fili's voice was firm. "If you hadn't done what you did, we'd either be dead or still prisoners in Mirkwood. You made Thorin proud, albeit terrified, and me as well. You are meant to be by his side with me. I wouldn't want to reclaim Erebor without my brother and best friend."

And with that, his little brother gave him the warmest smile he had seen in days.

* * *

"Alright then, lads and lass, we best move on now." Oin let out a heavy sigh and stood. Bofur and the brothers followed suit and Linnor with a groan.

"Oh come on." Bofur tried sounding cheerful, ever the optimist. "Don't think of it as a heavy laden, depressing trudge to the possible remains of our friends and loved ones. You've just got to think positively! You got to ease…ease on down the road!"

"We're going up, you fool." Oin snapped.

"Don't you carry nothing that might be a load, Oin, and that pessimistic attitude of yours is quite burdening." Bofur grinned as he started to walk.

"Ease on down the road…" Linnor hummed.

"And we're back!" Kili whooped, swinging an arm around his brother's neck.

" _Cause there may be times_

 _when you think you lost your mind"_

"And the steps you're taking," Fili laughed, his own arm swinging around Kili, tugging at the clasp in his hair, "leaves you three, four steps behind."

"Shut up." Kili grinned, ducking his head.

"Ah, come now!" Bofur whistled, farther ahead up the trail. "Not everything is this…well, alright the road tends to be a little long…we've been on it for months, but they were very exciting-"

" _Just keep on stepping_

 _And you'll just be fine!"_

Linnor let out a laugh, her spirits lifting for the first time since Legolas left her at the shore.

"Bloody idiots, all of you." Oin groused, but Linnor heard a note of amusement in his tone, and knew he was smiling, if slightly.

"Master Oin!" Kili hollered, hoisting himself over a large grassy boulder, "Come! You just have to ease on down the ro-"

He stopped. They all stopped. The lighthearted feelings of seconds before vanished as they stood before the open gates of Erebor at last. Linnor didn't know what she expected, but never was it a torn and bloodies hobbit, standing in the hall before them.


	46. Chapter 46: Home?

**A/N: And just like I promised, here is a really long chapter! I have a lot of ideas on where the next few chapters are going, so hold on tight.**

 **I used song lyrics from Stop Just Love by Us the Duo, Lost Boy by Ruth B, and Home from Beauty and the Beast.**

 **Guys, I just have to say I cannot believe how amazing all of you are. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing and I hope you continue to do both! More chapters are soon to come!**

* * *

Bilbo Baggins had, in Kili's opinion, very poor taste. Not very suitable for battle, and frankly, he's looked more like a merchant that anyone suited for a quest, much less burglary. That being said, Kili thought that Bilbo, his overcoat singed and bloody, his face covered in layers of grime and soot, and his whole appearance speaking of despair…Kili thought Bilbo had never looked better.

"Something's wrong with Thorin."

There was no greeting, no expression of relief. Kili froze and he felt his brother do the same.

"What?"

"We need to leave. Immediately." Bilbo said, with a tone of underlaying urgency hobbits tend to have.

"But we just got here." Bofur whined, and in any other circumstance, Kili might have laughed.

With a huff of annoyance, Fili pushed past Bilbo and stormed inside the lost city. Kili swore and limped after him, his leg twinging in pain with every step.

"Fili!" he panted as he struggled to follow his brother down a spiral staircase made of luminescent stone. "Fili, stop! Just wait!"

"You heard Bilbo, Kee." Fili called back, not pausing even for a second as he started to pick up the worried pace down stairs and now a lengthy corridor. "Thorin's ill."

Kili could hear the others trying to keep up behind them, but he knew they could easily follow their echoing voices and footsteps. His focus right now was on following his able brother while keeping his legs from giving out.

'Well, we've traveled down that road before, now haven't we? He reasoned to his older brother. "We've always come around, Fee!"

He hoped his brother remembered all those dreadful winters when they were dwarflings, when each one of them had caught ill at one time or another. He certainly remembered waiting anxiously by Amad's bedside, beside his Uncle, beside Fili, and he remembered Fili, with tears in his eyes as he told his little brother that he himself had gotten so ill that he had been on the brink of death for weeks before he rallied. Those had been terrifying for a small dwarf, but they survived. They were Durins. They survived.

But if Fili remembered now, it made no difference to him. Kili swore again, a small sweat breaking out on his forehead as his leg cramped at the hurried pace. He sucked in a breath.

"Fili, come on a moment! Stop-"

"Kili, think about it-"

"No! Don't think! Wait for me, for us, and deal with this like a prince, not a worried mother!" Kili cringed inwardly. When had he become the responsible Durin?

"Just-"

"For the love of all things Dwarrow, just find the blasted room already!" Oin huffed from the youngest heir. Behind him, at a slightly slower pace, came Bofur, Linnor and Bilbo.

"In here."

Fili stood before a small open balcony set inwardly in the hallway, his face blank. Cautiously, Kili moved to stand beside his brother.

He was struck first with the thought that Thorin's stories had spoken true. The balcony was actually another staircase that led down into a room full of more gold than Kili had ever dared to dream, than he had ever known existed. Gold coins and goblets created a sea of shining wealth, decorated with spots of color, made by rubies, saphires, diamonds, silver weapons and shields and armor. The vast amount of glorious splendor almost distracted Kili from the fact that his uncle was standing in the center of it all.

Thorin was now engulfed in a large fur cloak, a solid intricate crown resting upon his brow. Somehow this made him look sterner than Kili had ever seen. He was holding something close to his chest, his head bowed, his mane of hair covering his expression. Suddenly, he whipped up, hefting the item straight at them, and which Fili caught in surprise. It was a huge ruby stone, flawless as any jewel could be and about the size of Fili's palm.

"My sister's sons." Thorin spoke up to them, eyes glistening. "Behold the wealth of Thror! Of Thrain! Of the Durin line, your birthright reclaimed! That ruby is one of thousands that belong to you now, what should have always been yours. It's all yours. All mine. All-Linnor."

As Thorin was speaking, Fili had slowly moved out of the doorway and down the stairs, and Kili followed, eyeing his gold-drunk uncle apprehensively. He glanced back now and saw that Bofur and Oin had come in behind them first. Linnor stood alone at the very top. And Kili thought that she, in her bedraggled Mirkwood clothing, her hair frazzled and bloody, framed by the doorway of the Erebor treasury…Kili thought she had never looked more like a princess of Durin.

* * *

Linnor stood, her face blank, her eyes wary on her uncle. This was…strange. Bilbo was right. There was something wrong with the way Thorin was looking at them, at her. There was a glint in his eyes that worried her greatly and made her jaw clench.

"Uncle." Her voice echoed massively in the room, sounding more like a roar.

"Why have you come here?" his voice wasn't low, which surprised her. "You said you were leaving…that you were lost in knowing what you wanted."

"You must understand." Linnor spoke awkwardly. She wasn't sure why but for some foreboding reason, she couldn't find the words. "There was a time when I was alone. I was kept prisoner in a place I called home. My only friend…"she paused to clear her throat, but in a flash, she smirked at Bofur instead. "My only friend was the Man in the Moon, outside my window, but even sometimes he would go away. I had no one. It was just me."

Linnor took a breath and moved down a step.

"Then you and everyone came striding into Rivendell. And…Thorin, ever since that day, I have been lost. A lost girl. But I am a lost girl of Erebor. A princess. A Durin."

By this time, Linnor had moved down the stairs, past the others watching her, so she stood on the edge of the hoard, almost level with Thorin. The glint had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a tender wistfulness Linnor had never seen before.

"My Linnor. My brother's daughter. To have chosen as you have gives you no cause to be lost anymore. You have chosen Durin. You will live in great splendor with myself and heirs." Thorin smiled and for a brief moment, Linnor smiled back. "What took you so long to get here?"

"Oh, that." Bofur piped up cheerfully, clearly relived that the tension had abated. "Well, firs' we had to get Kili well again, and we did, with the help of Linnor's long lost mother, who's still alive and from Rivendell! Believe me, what a knock on the head that was. And o' course, Smaug came down and wreaked a little havoc that we had to live through, and then we had to wait a moment while Linnor and her elf love-"

"What?"

Everyone froze. There was a very dangerous note in Thorin's voice, and all signs of tenderness had vanished. The look on his face now was cold and cruel.

"Elf love?" his eyes burned. "You've been with my enemy?" I should have known. You are half their spawn, and you have inherited all their treachery! You aren't here for Durin. You are here to spy and steal for your lover and your elven mother!"

"That is not true! Thorin, what is wrong with you?" Why would you say those horrible things?" Linnor cried out, tears of hurt in her eyes. "My mother has been dead to me all these years, and her being alive changes none of my feelings. And Legolas-"

"Do not say his name!" Thorin roared. "Dwalin!"

The muscled tattooed dwarf suddenly appeared from a pile of gold not far away. "Escort Lady Linnor to a chamber and bar the door. She will remain there until she decides where her loyalties lie."

No one moved. Linnor herself was frozen in furious shock.

"Thorin-"

"I am King." Thorin's black eyes never left Linnor's face, but it was as if he didn't even see her anymore. She was no longer his niece. "And you will do as I say or suffer for it."

Dwalin slowly stepped out of his wealth. Very cautiously, with strange looks at Thorin, Dwalin came up to stand beside Linnor, and gently yet firmly took her upper arm.

"Come. I'm sorry. Do not make this harder than it has to be, Linnor."

Incredulously, Linnor turned from Thorin to Dwalin, and then to her cousins. Their heads were bowed, Fili's jaw tight and Kili's hands clenched into fists. But they were silent. Removed, Linnor allowed Dwalin to lead her from the treasury. They walked up stairs and down corridors until they reached an area Linnor could vaguely recognize as bedchambers. Dwalin stopped outside one door.

It was black and heavy, laid with a pattern of golden veins and emeralds. A pattern of letters was scratched onto the frame, worn with time.

"I know Thorin would like you to be kept in Dis's old room. Your aunt, they boys' mother. But I think this room would mean much more to you."

Dwalin pushed the solid door open and motioned Linnor inside. Suddenly nervous, Linnor stepped inside the bedroom of her long dead father.

Frerin's room distinctly mirrored the door. Veins of gold wrapped the room, which was sheathed in dark brown and black. A large wooden chest was at one end by a thin window leading out to a narrow balcony. There was an enormous bed in the center of the room, an even larger fur blanket draping over the whole expanse. Beside it was a small desk and table. And all around the room, on every wall, were tapestries and portraits, detailed sketches of dwarves and dwarven ladies. There was an incredible likeness of Thorin on the far wall, and next to him, a woman so alike Fili and Kili that she must be Dis. And the third largest…was Frerin. Linnor took timid steps closer to the last tapestry, looking upon the face of her father for the very first time. Linnor gave a small gasp as she came closer to his detailed portrait.

"In another life, this would have been your home. It still is." Dwalin said behind her, and then the door swung shut, the click of the lock trapping Linnor inside the well preserved room of her dead father. Linnor sighed and moved to sit on the fine bed.

"Is this home?" Linnor murmured, an empty feeling encasing her. "Am I supposed to be happy?" She laughed derisively. "Never dreamed that a home could be dark and cold."

" _I was told every day of my childhood_

 _even when we grow old_

 _Home will be where your heart is_

 _Never were words so true_

 _My heart's far, far away_

 _Home is too"_

Linnor took a breath, wondering at her own words. They were true, in a way. Growing up in Rivendell, she had been often told by Faolan that her home would always be where her heart was. Linnor had always thought that place was Rivendell, or Erebor. But ever since Mirkwood…she wasn't so sure. Perhaps her heart wasn't someplace, but with someone.

"What I'd give to return to the life that I knew lately." Linnor sighed, her head in her hands. "If it was still early and before things were complicated with-with greed and love and death. It would all be okay."

But of course, that wasn't possible. Only a "what if". And she had so many of those. What if she had never left Rivendell? What if she had chosen to stay behind in Mirkwood? What if she had gone with her mother? Instead here she was: locked in a room, prisoner in her own home, just like Rivendell.

" _Is this home?_

 _Am I here for a day or forever?_

 _Shut away from the world_

 _Until who knows when."_

Thorin and his company had rescued her the first time. There was no one here now. She was alone again.

"No." she whispered. "Legolas will come for me. He promised. If I cannot change my family's mind…then my heart truly was never here." She looked sadly at the door, yet with an air of defiance she firmly believed in.

" _Build higher walls around me_

 _change every lock and key_

 _Nothing lasts, nothings holds_

 _All of me."_

"My heart's far away." Linnor said sadly, and she pulled her legs up on the bed, her knees to her chest, and cried.


	47. Chapter 47: Dreaming of You

**A/N: PLEASE READ THIS!**

 **In this chapter, Linnor is asleep. She is dreaming of important moments of her time with Legolas in Mirkwood. These are her memories as she sleeps. This is kind of like a brief pause in the action, and Linnor deserves one after the day she's had!**

 **There are six memories in this chapter, each featuring a song. They are Beyond My Wildest Dreams from The Little Mermaid, Colors of the Wind from Pocahontas, Just Around The Riverbend from Pocahontas, Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Clare, Die a Happy Man by Nelly, and One Step Closer from The Little Mermaid.**

 **Please sit back and relax for this chapter, and review please!**

* * *

 _She was still in Mirkwood. It was one of the first days she and the others had been held prisoner by King Thranduil. That morning, Linnor had been awoken by a sharp knock on her quarters door and ordered to dress, which she did, rather hastily._

 _Unlike the cells of the others, her prison was well furnished and comfortable, like a lady's chambers. There was a solid oak bed with delicate coverings, light shades, and dressing drawers filled with a series of marvelous gowns. She picked one at random, the color of sunset, and opened her door to see a stern looking elven guard waiting for her._

 _He had taken her to see Thorin and Fili and Kili and everyone else for the first time in days, and she sat there with them, unsure of what there was to say. Then, suddenly, she looked up to see him watching her, and she stood._

" _Come with me."_

" _Why?" she asked, unsure if it was a trap or a gesture of kindness._

" _I've something to show you."_

 _So she followed him, and he led her around the tree palace of Mirkwood until two doors, entwined by a vine of holly and ivy, blocked their path. There was sort of a pleasant glow about the doors, a feeling of tranquility altogether different from the rest of the palace, which in itself was very serene. In that moment, he looked at her, and she looked at him, and he opened the doors slowly._

 _It was the biggest library she had ever seen. Every wall was an intricate shelf stretching high to the ceiling, the open sky. There was a cozy little fireplace in one corner with a small table and a few chairs set with pillows. She gasped at the sheer amount of books that lined every available space in that one endless room._

" _What do you think?"_

" _Legolas-it's bedazzling! Dazing! Utterly amazing! It's like-oh, I could die! How did you know-?"_

" _You said you were half-elf. I don't know any elf who doesn't love books and the knowledge and adventure one can find there."_

 _She smiled, really smiled as she hadn't in days, and impulsively reached out and took his hand in hers._

" _Thank you for showing me."_

" _Anytime you wish."_

* * *

" _Good morning, Lady Linnor."_

" _Prince Legolas."_

 _She had been awakened by insistent knocking and had hastily dressed in an emerald green gown before going to greet the knocker, and she had been pleasantly surprised to see Legolas Greenleaf. She had smiled, blushed, tucked a stand of hair behind her ear, but received only a cold nod in return._

" _Walk with me."_

 _It was an order, and so she obeyed, her feelings chilling with his attitude towards her._

 _"My father has requested I ask you some questions seeing as your companions have proven difficult."_

 _She didn't respond. She didn't like this side of him, the cold soldier prince whose eyes didn't twinkle when he looked her way, but still remained as flawless as the whole of him._

 _"We have been nothing but kind to you and those savages, considering-"_

 _"Savages?"_

 _She stopped walking, not aware that they stood on the same balcony he had taken her to see the stars that first night she had arrived._

 _"You think that they are savages?"she laughed derisively and turned from the beautiful elf. "How is it that one with so large a library does not know so much?"_

 _"What don't I know?"_

 _"Have you ever heard the wolf cry at the new moon?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"Is he a savage for something that is a part of himself?"_

 _"Let me ask you-"_

 _"No. Listen. Is the wind savage because it howls and screams and sings? Or the mountains?"_

 _Legolas was silent, and she was afraid for a moment that he was angry, really angry, with her. But then he laughed, a breathy imperfect laugh, and it was beautiful._

 _"You see the world as I do not. You paint with the colors of the wind, Linnor. You-"_

* * *

" _Do you see it?"_

 _Another day, another knock, another dress (sky blue), another visit to her family and friends, and another walk with Legolas. Today, they had climbed higher than she had ever been into the palace tier of trees, until she had gotten dizzy looking down through the branches._

 _"I see it! There, the silver streak?"_

 _"That's the river."_

 _Legolas had taken her up there so she could see out over the trees and down to where the river that crossed through Mirkwood came into clear view._

"What I love most about rivers is

You can't step in the same river twice

The water's always changing

Always flowing"

 _He laughed. He always did whenever she sang. It was never mean. Always happy. She loved it. She had known, right then. She loved him._

 _"People don't live like that." she said wistfully._

 _"We stay safe." he replied. She felt a tug then, in her chest. A pull away from him and out towards that silver line._

"To be safe we lose our chance of ever knowing

what's around the riverbend

waiting just around the riverbend..."

 _This time, he took her hand, and butterflies erupted in her stomach._

 _"That depends."_

 _"On?"_

 _"Who is traveling with you."_

* * *

 _"Go away!"_

 _"Lady Linnor, you must come out."_

 _"No, I mustn't!" I'm a prisoner, remember? There's nowhere for me to go. So, if you'd please, I'd much rather prefer to stay here, alone! You are dismissed!"_

 _She was very upset that day. She refused to change, to open her door. Instead, she was still in bed, crying into her pillow, determined to send everyone away. Except this person decided to actually care what she did this morning. They also had realized that the door locks from the outside, and she heard it open despite her protests._

 _"Linnor..."_

 _"Legolas, please. You are the last person I wish to see right now. Do not waste your breath."_

 _She buried herself in the covers on the bed, trying to keep out a chill that wasn't outside the comfort of her coverings. There was silence, and she thought she might have scared him away at last. Then, she felt the bed shift to the side as he took a gentle seat beside her hidden body._

 _"Linnor please. Are you not well?"_

 _She dove deeper._

 _"Go away. I don't want you here."_

 _"But I want to be here."_

 _"Why?" she shouted, voice muffled by the silken pillow. "Why choose to be with the half-bred freak who is neither one thing or another? Who is as short and bulky as a dwarf, and the only thing fair about her is the lack of facial hair? I am utterly unremarkable. So why are you here, when no doubt there is a court of elven women waiting simply for you to grace them with your presence."_

 _Again, there was silence, but he was still there._

 _"You've been talking to Laeloralie."_

 _It was not a question. Linnor didn't answer. She didn't have to. He was right, of course. She had met with the beautiful elf woman the day before as she sat in the lovely library._

 _"Linnor, she is as cruel as she is beautiful. Not all elves are kind. She takes pleasure in playing on the insecurities and flaws of others. You are not the first she has done this to."_

 _"But she was right." she sobbed again, too upset to be embarrassed. In a moment of heart-wrenching panic, she dug her nails hard into her palms, drawing blood. Quickly, Legolas took her hand between his own, holding them tight._

 _"I am going to tell you a story."_

 _She was silent, nothing more than a pile of pieces of a shattered heart._

 _"There was a girl. A young girl, she was, with a heart of diamonds and eyes like water, ever changing. Everyone saw her, and loved her because she was beautiful. But she didn't know. Other girls, jealous of her loveliness, tried to break her spirit. She believed all their lies. She let sadness and heartbreak consume her, and slowly, she wasted away, no longer noticed, no longer loved."_

 _"This is supposed to make me feel better?" Linnor snapped, the sting somewhat dulled by her face in the pillow._

 _"Yes." Legolas replied simply, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You see, that girl let her insecurities claim her. You are not that girl, Linnor. Laeloralie is jealous of you, and she was petty in attacking you. Don't let your insecurity claim you. There's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark. You should know you're beautiful just the way you are."_

 _"Really?" Linnor sniffed and raised herself from the bed. She knew she looked horrendous with her flyaway hair and chapped lips and red eyes. "Because sometimes, I feel so different. Like people have made me feel different, and if I could only change-"_

 _"You don't have to change a thing. They, the world, can change its heart." he unclenched her hand and ran his lithe fingers over the bleeding cuts her nails had left. "No scars to your beautiful."_

 _He caught her watery eyes and gave her a gentle smile._

 _"We're stars and we're beautiful."_

* * *

" _Have you ever been?"_

 _"Where?" he asked, grinning._

 _"Lothlorien. The Shire. Rivendell. Bree, Erebor. All these places in these books. Gondor, Rohan. Have you been?"_

 _They were sitting in the library together, peering over a large book filled with maps of all Middle Earth. Linnor had always loved maps. They were the closest thing she had ever gotten to seeing the world when she was in Rivendell. She and Legolas were looking now at a map spanning the every city, every place worthwhile in Middle Earth. Legolas chuckled at her wondrous enthusiasm and pointed at the map._

 _"I have passed Bree. It is near The Shire, a place of Halflngs, or hobbits. Bree is a place of Man, really, though everyone passes through. Rivendell is no stranger to me."_

 _'You've been there? When? I would have seen-"_

 _"Would you have taken another glance at an elf entering Imladris?" he eyed her knowingly, but with amusement. "I have not been in a century or so, long before you."_

 _"Not that long." Linnor blushed, suddenly aware that while she was not young, he was older than her, timeless as he was._

 _"No." Legolas said softly._

 _They held each others gazes for a few minutes longer and then it passed and he continued._

 _"Gondor, here, and Rohan are only a hundred leagues or so from each other. I have not been in a short while, since a friend of mine therein. There is war and sickness breeding in both cities, close as they are to the poison of Mordor."_

 _His hand passed over the darkest part of the map, his face drawn with a darker emotion._

 _"What about Lothlorien?" she prompted gently, trying to break him from his unpleasant reverie. "Erebor?"_

 _"My father often visited Erebor in the days when Thror ruled. I was never allowed to attend, so I stayed here."_

 _Linnor looked wistfully at the remaining mark on the aged map._

 _"I've never been to Lothlorien." Legolas admitted, watching her instead of the parchment. "They say the trees are gold, the air fresh and full of life, and the whole city sparkles in the tree tops. They say the most beautiful woman resides in those woods, a sorceress of an elven queen. But very few have ventured there, and those who do, do not plan to return."_

 _As oddly foreboding as that was, Linnor couldn't help the sigh of longing that escaped her lips. Once again, it seemed his hand found hers and held it tenderly._

 _"I am sorry you can not see all the places you wish. I would like..." she looked at him, questioning hope in her eyes. Legolas took a breath, looking surprisingly nervous. "I would have liked to have taken you."_

 _Linnor could feel the blush creeping up on her, as well as the swarm of gigantic butterflies that seemed to have taken residence in her chest and stomahc, flapping their wings erratically._

 _"Legolas...if I never get to see the Lothlorian lights, or if I never get to see Erebor City at night, or if I never get to visit hobbits in Shire, or ride horses through Rohan past Mordor's dull fire...Legolas, if all I've got is your hand in my hand...I could really and truly die happy."_

 _And he smiled._

* * *

" _Legolas, where are we going?"_

 _"You'll love this, I promise."_

 _Legolas had come to get her late that day, almost as dusk fell. He had all but dragged her from where she sat in front of Bifur's cell (he was teaching her basic Khuzdul) and back to her room. With a startling amount of excited energy, he had told her to change into something light, and then he had shut the door and she was left standing, at a complete loss for words, and more than a little confused. For one, in the weeks she had known Legolas, and grown closer to him, she had never seen him so full of life. Not to mention, he had said to dress light, and as of what seemed an unspoken rule amongst them all, elven clothes were designed to weigh nothing and float as if only made of colored air._

 _In the end, she had chosen one she had found in the very back of her drawers. It was a whitish silver color, but it shimmered as she moved, casting an array of colors. Th neckline was low, and the sleeves dipped off her shoulders, giving her a more regal and yet youthful look. Linnor actually gasped at her reflection in her small mirror._

 _Legolas, too, seemed pleased. His energy had dulled, and for a moment, his eyes glazed over and shone. Then, gently this time, he took her hand and led her up into a part of the palace she had never been._

 _"Legolas, are you sure-"_

 _She never finished that thought. A trilling melody was drifting down from somewhere above them, and she could faintly hear the sounds of gentle laughter. She froze, and they halted. Legolas turned to her curiously, his hand still holding onto hers._

 _"You're taking me to a party."_

 _It was not a question. The elf ducked his head, smiling shyly._

 _"Yes, well...you've been here for a while now, and seeing as who you are-to me- it seemed like there was one thing you haven't yet experienced. Everyone's there. There's food, singing, dancing-"_

 _"No."_

 _Linnor's voice wasn't shaky, but neither was it as strong as she wanted. She was stiff, her hand suddenly very cold in his, and she set her jaw to prevent any further wavering. Her eyes met his, and her heart nearly ripped in two at the look of utter hurt and slight embarrassment he was emanating. He was clearly disappointed at the point blank refusal his surprise had gotten._

 _"Legolas, it's not you." Linnor spoke softly, knowing, somehow, that they were very close to where the party was being held, and elves had keen hearing, even through the jocund melody playing. "I...I am sorry. But it's...not a good idea. Not for me."_

 _The hurt in his eyes dimmed and he took a step back towards her. She didn't move, and he took another and another until they were standing very close to each other and he placed both of his hands on her bare shoulders, sending a lash of heat down her spine._

 _"Linnor? Tell me. I-I wish to understand."_

 _"Rivendell." she blurted out, her face flushing in a moment of embarrassment. He looked shocked at her sudden outburst, but didn't say anything, so Linnor continued. "I was...more or less isolated there. I rarely if ever left my room, and when I did...it was only so Lord Elrond could show me off. He made me out to be some mysterious beauty, a great treasure, a blessed human girl who had somehow received the honor of living in his court. I was nothing more than something to showcase at parties and for guests. I just...I feel like this is-"_

 _Legolas shushed her and drew her into his chest._

 _"Linnor...that is not-I mean, I would never-" he sighed. "I am sorry. You must know...all I wished to do was take you to one of our star parties and dance."_

 _Linnor gave a half-hearted chuckle and stood back from the elf._

 _"That's another thing. I can't dance."_

 _After a moment, a smirk started to edge it's way onto Legolas's impassive face._

 _"You can't dance?"_

 _"No!" she smiled. "I can sing, sure that's easy, but dancing...it's not like singing. I don't know how to move."_

 _"It's only music. You have to feel it, just like a song. Come here."_

 _He led her off to the side, where a larger platform circled out and around the tree it was supported on and made a sort of impromptu stage. The moon was high and full and illuminated them in an ethereal glow. Slowly, with a intimate caution, he placed her hand on his shoulder, one of his on her waist and clasped their remaining hands together. He then gently guided her until they were making timid circles out in the open stage._

"A dance is like a conversation

Except your lips don't ever need to part

And once you've begun

You speak as one

Cheek to cheek

Toe to toe

Heart to heart"

 _They both slowly stopped spinning and looked at each other, illuminated in a white halo of the moonbeams. Linnor suddenly found both her hands on his neck, and suddenly his hands were on her waist and she was pulled closer and-_

* * *

BAM BAM BAM.

Linnor's eyes flashed open, but for a moment she thought she had gone blind, for everything was very dark. She blinked and remembered: she was in her father's bedchambers in Erebor, locked away by Thorin. She was only dreaming of her time spent in Mirkwood. They were only memories. Linnor raised a hand to her cheek, and was surprised to find it dry. She smiled.

BAM BAM BAM!

So someone was knocking at the door. That's what had awakened her. Groaning, Linnor lifted herself out of her bed and her far away memories.

"Enter."


	48. Chapter 48: Wishes

**A/N: This story is 18 followers away from hitting 100 follows, and it's been less than six months. I am shocked. 51 reviews, 67 favorites, and 82 follows has caught be by surprise and I am so very happy that you all like my writing.**

 **The songs I use below (in dialogue or lyrics) are:**

Bear by Pacific Air

When You Wish Upon A Star from Pinocchio

Everything I Am by Phil Collins

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes from Cinderella

 **I do not own any of these songs, nor do I own the Hobbit or any of its characters, places, etc. Linnor and Ciranel are my own characters.**

 **I don't know how I feel about some of what I wrote in this chapter, so please review and tell me your thoughts!**

* * *

Slowly, Frerin's bedroom door hefted open and a mop of curly light brown hair peeked into the opening.

"Bilbo?" Linnor said, more than a little confused.

To be honest, she had expected (and hoped) that Thorin would be her first visitor. At best, he would have calmed down enough and come to talk to her like he used to. Maybe he would have even talked about her father, and the tapestries in his room. At worst, she would have been interrogated on her loyalty. Or if not her uncle, then her cousins would have come. Or Dwalin, who had been uncharacteristically kind earlier. Or anyone else, really. But she had almost forgotten about the sweet little Halfling. She had a feeling she wasn't the only one.

"Uh, Linnor. I, uh, figured I'd find you here." Bilbo cleared his throat awkwardly. He was clutching something to his chest, bound in leather. It was small, and probably valuable, considering how the hobbit's hands clutched at it. Linnor knew that dwarves by nature were fiercely protective and borderline greedy, but hobbits were more of collectors, weren't they? Nothing would surprise her at this point.

"Yes, well, where else would I be? I've been locked in this room since-how long has it been? I fell asleep." Linnor looked out towards her small window and balcony and noticed, for the first time, that night had fallen. It was only a little after midday when they arrived, wasn't it?

"It's late. Very late. How late, I'm not sure. Late enough that I should have known you were asleep. And dreaming a good dream, I suppose?

"Yes, I was dreaming. That is until somebody woke me up with incessant knocking." Linnor smiled a little, showing the hobbit that her jibe meant no harm. "As for whether it was a good one…."

"Well, you know a dream is a wish your heart makes when you're fast aleep."

Linnor looked at Bilbo, stunned. The hobbit reddened and clutched at his half-hidden parcel.

"What?" Linnor was startled by her urge to suddenly burst into laughter. The line was something someone might have expected to hear from her, not Bilbo Baggins. The hobbit in question shuffled his feet and shot her a lopsided grin, albeit a little more than defiant.

"What do you mean what? It's a serious saying in the Shire. Old Gaffer Gamgee has been known to spew a line like than in the Green Dragon Inn more than a couple of times."

This time, Linnor did laugh out loud. It was pitiful and full of sarcasm and frustration, but it was a laugh and somehow it helped lift her spirits in any case. She turned her back to the reddening hobbit and collapsed back upon her bed. Her father's bed. Bilbo began to chuckle as well after a moment.

"He also said a good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything. I'm assuming it helped with some of your troubles?"

"Oh, Bilbo Baggins, hobbit from the Shire. You are full of surprises, yes." Linnor grinned and swept her hand dramatically. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure to my humble prison?" she paused as a thought hit her and slowly she sat up to look at him again. "Wait a moment. The door was locked and Dwalin had the key, which I presume he gave to Thorin. The door's been locked for hours-"

"Actually, that's not entirely true." Bilbo cleared his throat again, looking more uncomfortable every second. Linnor locked her eyes onto his flickering ones and became very still.

"Exactly what's not true, Bilbo?"

"Well, you see, Thorin is….a little busy with a few things of the moment. Things tend to…slip his mind. There's a lot to get done, and well….Balin asked if you needed to be locked up any longer and Thorin…well, in any case, he sent Dwalin to unlock the door and get you a few hours ago. He said he knocked but you didn't answer, seeing as you were asleep. The door's been unlocked for hours."

"Are you kidding me?!" Linnor leapt up onto her feet, enraged. "I could have left ages ago!"

"In your defense, you were asleep!" Bilbo squeaked.

Linnor groaned and ran her fingers agitatedly through her hair.

"I am so unbelievably stupid."

"Linnor, you were asleep, dreaming of better times, a better place. Which certainly isn't here. To be honest, if you are happier asleep than awake-."

"I don't need another reason for my dreams to replace me. I just-it's like I have one foot in one world and the other in another world and I can't move either way and I'm stuck with a mother and no father and two kingdoms and an uncle and aunt and cousins and-" Linnor had been walking in angry circles as she spoke, and suddenly, she found herself right by her window. The balcony was small, but it looked out over the rocky terrain that led far up into the hills, diagonal from the front gates, which she could just make out from where she stood. Above, the sky was a deep rich bluish black, with small shimmering specks of stars high up above.

" _When you wish upon a star_

 _Makes no difference who you are_

 _Anything your heart desires_

 _Will come to you"_

"And what is your wish?" Bilbo spoke softly, gently.

"To know my family." Linnor whispered, turning back around, her eyes downcast. "There's either too many at once or not enough and I just want a moment to get to know one of them. My mother. My father. But of course that is impossible."

"Well," Bilbo took a step forward into the room for the first time since coming in a few minutes earlier. "not impossible, actually. That's the reason I'm here."

"And here I thought you missed my company." Linnor joked, but once again her eyes were drawn to the bundle in Bilbo's hands. "What is it, Bilbo?"

"You see," he started, now looking at his package as well. "We were all in the treasury. Half of us really, since Thorin took the others to begin a special project of his. Us, the other half, were supposed to be looking for the Arkenstone when I, erm, stumbled upon a few things I think rightly belong to you."

"Me?" Linnor cocked her head in blatant confusion. "But I was never a part of Erebor. Thorin said he never knew where my father went to, and certainly their father never knew. My mother was in Rivendell, and that's where I grew up. Nothing here is anything to me."

"Except your father, Frerin, was." Bilbo hesitated and then held out the think bundle he had been holding. "I think these things were his, at least, and he left them behind. What they were doing in the treasury I have no idea, but if they were his, then they are yours, and nobody else's."

It was a journal, bound in thick leather. Pages stuck out haphazardly, and what looked like letters nearly bursting from the bindings, which was held by another long strap of leather. On top of the journal, however, was a long solid gold chain, with an oval emerald glass casing at one end. A locket.

Linnor reached for both things gingerly, laying the book on her lap and taking the locket in her hands, her hands enveloping the emerald like she was holding a baby bird. It was smooth and translucent, but there were ridges and grooves in the sides, as if something or someone had tried to claw it open. Linnor let her hands feel the whole of it, and finally they twitched over a small knob on the top, where the chain met the emerald case.

The top of the case flipped over and Linnor nearly cried out at the inside. There were two sketches, one on either side. The first side of the locket held a picture of a dwarf, a large man with thick, unruly hair, broad shoulders and sharp angular features. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were twinkling with love and excitement. There was a ironwork crown on his brow. This was her father, Frerin Durin.

The second sketch was of a woman with a serene face. She had high cheekbones, arched eyebrows and long dark hair. She was clearly elvish and while her eyes were serious, a smile played at her lips that made the drawing come alive. It was her mother, Ciranel. But it was what was in her mother's arms that had nearly made her cry out in shock.

It was a baby girl.

" _Is this my family?_

 _Can it really be them that I see?_

 _My father and mother_

 _And in their arms can it really be me?"_

She was barely aware that she was now alone in her room. All her focus was on the little sketch of herself in the sketch of her mother's arms and the white noise in her ears. Her throat was tight and raw, as if she'd been screaming. But she hadn't been...had she?

" _All these emotions_

 _I can barely control_

 _Cause the family I had_

 _Is not the family I know"_

Linnor laid the necklace gently beside her on the bed and reached for the journal and unclasped the leather holding it all together. The cover was curved and bent, and inside were dozens of letters folded neatly. Linnor noticed they were written in elvish. She laid those aside as well and looked at the pages inside the journal, which were written in English, surprisingly enough . The writing was bold and bulky, a man's handwriting. Her father's.

" _It's all here to discover_

 _Everything that I am."_

Linnor shut the book with a snap, and put everything back together and set in in the center of the bed. After a second, she reached forward and took hold of the journal and held it to her chest. She set her shoulders back, then, and marched to her door and took hold of the handle.

Bilbo was right. It was unlocked and swung easily open into the stone hallways.

"Un-freaking-believable." Linnor muttered.

With a quick glance back into her room, Linnor stepped out into the hall, shut the door, and set off, determined to find her uncle.


	49. Chapter 49: Build A Wall

**A/N: Christmas break has arrived and with updates galore! Not everything I've written will be updated, as my ideas are still a little confusing even to me. Once things get sorted out, then I'll have more chapters for you guys. We are bordering on some heavy material as we enter BOTFA, so please bear with me as things get rough.**

 **The songs I've incorporated below are as follows:**

Build A Wall from Shrek the Musical

Stand By You by Rachel Platten

We Are Family by Keke Palmer

 **I do not own any of these songs, nor do I own the Hobbit or anything connected to Tolkien's universe. I only own Linnor and Ciranel as my own characters.**

 **I hope you guys will read and review on the chapters I've posted so far. Think of the reviews as my Christmas presents! They would make me so happy! Enjoy!**

* * *

Thorin stood before his chosen few, the heavy ironwork crown on his brow a solid reminder of his role now in their eyes. He had taken aside Dwalin, Bofur, Bifur, Fili, Kili, Gloin, and Dori from the hunt in the treasury for the Arkenstone to assist him in a new precautionary project at the front gates.

"Look behind you." he spoke softly, but with a clear edge of authority that demanded obedience. Sure enough, the seven turned to face out of the demolished gates and looked out over the rolling hill and valley of the Lonely Mountain. There, in between the ruins and remaining buildings of the city of Dale, were specks of light. Torches. Faintly, whispers of voices were carried on the winds to their ears, and they could pick up the dialects of Men and Elves.

"There our enemies take refuge for the night in false confidence and security. They think we will remain to have these gates open and ruined in our weakened state. They believe we will be too busy taking care of our dead and wounded to worry about things such as the mountain we have lost and reclaimed and the things inside." Thorin spoke with the calmness of the sea at bay, but with such underlying power that one expects from a coming storm. "They believe falsities. We have no dead. We have no wounded. We are not weak. We do not forget. We will not be taken again."

The others slowly turned away from the distant lights and voices back to their dark king.

'What are you proposing, Thorin?" Dwalin asked, his skepticism barely perceptible underneath his own pride and his concern for his friend and king.

Thorin gave him a long look, then to each of the others, whose faces remained blank. His dark eyes then went to wander over the remaining rubble of the once sealed entrance of Erebor.

"You're going to build me a wall, and make it ten…..no, make it one hundred feet high. I don't want no one getting in, but I'd like to see them try." Thorin snarled.

"A….wall?" Kili whispered to his brother. "So what? We're going to disappear?"

"What's the matter, Kili?" Thorin latched onto his nephew's whispered doubts fiercely. "Am I not being clear? Do you not see the lights burning a mere league away from what we've rightfully won? Am I getting through at all to you?"

Fili tensed at Thorin's tone. It was one he had heard a few times as a dwarfling, and one Kili had heard consistently. A glance at his little brother told him that he remembered it quite clearly and it stung a little bit to see the hurt look in Kili's eyes at the sudden scorn in their uncle's voice. Especially after everything Kili had endured on this trip.

"I am sorry, Uncle. I should have known." Kili bowed his head after a long pause, his eyes hard with emotion. No one else dared to move. Thorin stood frozen above them for the longest time before he nodded, briefly, and continued.

"The best way to conquer, they say, is to divide." Thorin motioned between the mountain and Dale. "We will be victorious. So we will divide ourselves from them, the world, our enemies. We are going to build a wall."

It was with grim faces that the seven dwarves slowly began their challenge of forging the towering wall in the face of the mountain's entrance. The city had a balcony that led from the throne platform about one hundred feet above the original entrance, and that was where Thorin wanted the wall to reach. It was an enormous feat for any dwarf, but Thorin's mind was clouded by power, fear, and darkness, and thus the weary group of seven was put to the task, to be finished by daybreak.

Thorin stood in the shadows of the entrance, watching them heft and set the stones. His youngest nephew had a clear shine of sweat on his forehead, and he remembered that it had been only a day ago that he had come close to losing him entirely to sickness. Thorin felt a pinch of guilt, but it was not enough to call Kili out of line. His brother was there helping him, and besides, he was a Durin. They were not weak.

"I need to speak with you."

Thorin turned slowly away from their work to face someone who he had nearly forgotten was there. His niece stood in her worn out clothes, her hair nearly dry and frizzy. She looked as if she had been crying, and her face was set in this tired way Thorin was all too familiar with from his childhood. His mother had worn that expression when he was young, as well as Dis when she was rearing her two near grown boys. To her chest, Linnor was clutching a small book. Ori's journal, no doubt.

"Linnor." Thorin nodded his head. "I thought I told you to remain in that room until you had decided where your loyalties-"

"Do not play this game with me, Thorin." Linnor spoke with a hard tone, one that held no emotion but the weariness he knew she had been carrying for a long while.

"I need to know the truth, Linnor." Thorin wanted to snarl, but looking at the young girl before him, so much like his brother and sister, he held his aggression at bay.

"I told you the truth, Thorin. Over and over again, I have told you where my loyalties lay. Not my heart, not my head, but my loyalties and my family. But I guess truth is what you believe in. And you are so determined not to believe me. You cannot have faith….faith is helping to reason, and I'm trying to reason with you, Thorin!"

"And to tell me what, exactly?"

"I am still, and always will be a Durin, first, foremost, and forever!" Linnor was so close to yelling, to screaming, but the book in her hand reminded her what she was trying to, what she wanted to say and she kept firm on her emotions. "When we were breaking down, I always helped find a way to break through. And if we die in the end of this, and we can't find Heaven. I'll walk through Hell with you. I am going to stand by you, Thorin Oakenshield, so you better learn that as the truth and believe it."

Thorin took one step, then another, towards his young niece. His eyes, so black and bottomless, gleamed in the low light and he spoke, gentle and questioning.

"But why?"

Linnor looked lost at such a question, only for a moment. Her eyes widened then softened, as if she could easily read his mind and know why he was asking the question now, after all this time.

"We are a family, made by links in a long chain, forged ages ago. The links in our chain make us strange, but really, they make us stronger. I know you feel differently, but I would not replace a thing, mother or father. We come from everywhere, and somehow we found it here. We found a home, Thorin. I found a home. We are a family, and not your ordinary family. We are a royal family, a family of warriors, of elves and dwarves, of history and blood and battles and love and hate and so, so much. And I-" she broke off to take a steadying breath. "I want to be a part of that family. Because it is the only family I have ever know. It may not be the only one I have, but it is the one I choose. And that should count for something."

Thorin reached out gently and touched her cheek. He wished he could tell her that it did count, that it meant the world to him that she chose to be there with him and his family. But he was never one for words and emotions. Frerin had always been more eloquent with his words than he, and Dis was a woman, a mother, and so much more in tune with emotions that he ever was. Thorin wished he could talk to his niece, to either of his nephews, and tell them….

"Unless you wish to help build a wall or search the treasury, I suggest you return to your room."

Linnor looked taken aback, and so was Thorin, though he hid it well. That was not what he meant to say, although it was a logical request in his mind. She had been helpful somewhat in the past, but what could se do now? There was nothing for her except to sit and wait for them to finish.

Linnor looked as if she was on the verge of either screaming or crying. Her face was tinged pink and was growing redder by the second. Her grip on the old leather book was so tight that her knuckles had gone ghostly white, and her nails were leaving small indents in the sheath.

"Thorin-" she started, but her voice shook and broke and she had to stop herself before she continued, but Thorin interrupted her.

"I have understood you enough, Linnor. And am glad that you feel the way you do. But it is time you left things to experienced dwarves. Take your book, return to your room, and rest. If you are needed, you will be called."

"Are you serious? Thorin, after everything, you cannot be serious in thinking-"

"Silence!" Thorin hissed, and pushed Linnor further away from where the seven were still working on the wall. "I will not hear of your disobedience any longer. I am King, and you will listen to me. Go to your room!"

He never meant to sound like that. After the words left his mouth, he was struck by how awful they truly were. They were words Dis's husband had said few times, and Dis herself had occasionally uttered. They were words he suspected Frerin would have used himself a few times. Linnor's eyes had hardened from disbelief to hurt and then to resolute defiance.

"You may be King, but you are not my father." Linnor said coldly, and then she turned away from him, her back straight, and returned to the depths of the ruined city.


	50. Chapter 50: Frerin's Journal

**A/N: Thank you guys so much! Can you believe we've reached 50 chapters! It's not too much longer, if you've been following the movies. We all know what's coming, and I'm dreading writing it, even though obviously some things are going to change. This chapter is going to be on the long side.**

 **The songs I reference below in one way or another are:**

Stars from Les Miserables

Light in the Hallway by Pentatonix

No Good Deed from Wicked

Everything I Didn't Say by 5SOS

Where You Are from Moana

Lullaby for a Princess by ponyphonic

Daughter of the Moon by Adriana Figueroa

I Lived by OneRepublic

You'll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins

How Could I Know from Secret Garden

The World Above from The Little Mermaid

 **I am simply using certain lyrics from these songs, not the whole songs. I do not own them, nor do I own the Hobbit. These are going to be used in excerpts in Frerin's journal. I hope you enjoy and review please!**

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Linnor continued her quick pace back towards her father's room. She still could not believe the words Thorin had spoke to her, after all that she had said, and after everything he knew she had gone through for him, for the company and the whole stupid quest! By the time she had reached the heavy black door, Linnor's breathing had become staggered, her shoulders were quivering and she was very aware that there was s single tear perched at the edge of her eye.

In a sense of relief vaguely foreign to her, Linnor quickly shut the door and ran forward to collapse on the big, fur bed. Thorin's last angry snarl of "Go to your room!" still echoed painfully in her mind. There had been something in his voice, and his eyes, that had rung out something deeper than his role as King. He had been almost paternal and angry, and Linnor had seen the exact moment he had heard it himself, and it nearly broke her.

"You are not my father."

That was what she had said. Those five little words held so much power and weight to them and while they were aimed at her uncle, they had knocked the wind out of her. Her father was dead, and Thorin was the closest thing she had left.

"And he's being a complete berk now that he's King." Linnor muttered to herself as she rolled over and covered her eyes in the crook of her arm. "Mahal, this must be how Fili and Kili feel everyday."

Slowly, Linnor sat up trying to control her raging emotions. Her gaze fell open the leather journal she had tossed beside her on the bed and she reached to pick it up. Gently, she ran her thumb over the intricate cover, feeling the worn leather. Her father had held this in his hand for years, writing things down he never told a soul. It wasn't much, but it was the only thing she had that was hers and his. Linnor reached behind her and felt the solid gold chain of the locket, and pulled it towards her. Delicately, even though she knew without a doubt that the chain was stronger than any metal ever forged, she draped it around her neck. The emerald case settled right above her heart, and her hand touched it for a moment before returning to the book.

"I might as well." Linnor sighed and opened to the very first page.

 _1._

 _This is the official journal and testament of Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. I've always wanted to say that, as false as it is. Thorin, my elder brother, is rightfully King after our father, Thrain. But I'm not sore. I have Dis, my little sister. My sweet Dis, though to whoever may read this, do not tell my sister I called her sweet. Master Dwalin has taught her well in weapons and she is as fierce as a Durin should be._

 _Anyway, my Mother is worried about Thror. We all are, I believe, but we hide it well. She is the one who gave me this leather book in the hopes that I may record all my worries and what is happening in case it is needed in the future. I hope she doesn't believe that Father may succumb to the same illness, or Thorin. Or myself, even. Dis is strong. She will be safe._

 _She is sending us on a trip to our allies in Mirkwood and Imladris. She wants us to be able to continue our timid alliance with the Elves in case things do not end well. She knows something, I am sure. Mothers know things that others do not, but she will not tell us her worries. I cannot tell if it is about the Dragon-sickness, or something else. I will go._

 _This is where I end my thoughts today. Thorin has called that we must leave if we are to be back within the week. He is traveling to see Lord Thranduil of the Mirkwood Elves and I travel to Imladris to visit with Lord Elrond. If Grandfather and Father are really in danger of falling sick, then we must away. So it must be and so it is written on the doorway to paradise: those who falter and those who fall must pay the price._

 _I swear, even if only in writing like a scribe, I will do everything in my power to help my people. I swear by the stars keeping watch in the night._

The next few pages were of diagrams and maps of the land as he traveled from Erebor to Imladris. After a few pages of indiscernible scribbles in Khuzdul, the writing picked up again in a second entry. Linnor took a breath and deliberately began to read again, and then the next, and the next.

 _2._

 _Something has happened. Nothing horrible, but I cannot promise even that. I have arrived in Imladris, having left my elder brother far behind in Mirkwood. Lord Elrond is not in, as he is visiting in Lothlorien. Strange place that is, but not as strange as here. I am not making much sense here on the page, I'm afraid. I am not making sense in my own mind._

 _I saw an elven woman. Frankly, I've always believed that all the elves in one city look identical. In Imladris, they are all tall and dark haired and fair and quiet and poetic and musical, and very gentle. I believed that until I saw her. She was my guide to the chamber where I now reside, in a high tower adorned in gold. It is spacious and it overlooks a courtyard in the center of the city. Frankly, I didn't notice that until after she had left, which was moments ago. It feels like hours._

 _If you ask my brother, he will honestly and vehemently give a long winded tirade on his countless mistrusts of elves, despite them being our allies. The same will go for my Father and Grandfather. There was a time when I would have nodded and agreed. I take it all back now. This woman is beautiful beyond the stars. I do not know what this feeling is, but I intend to find out._

 _If she is reading this, I want her to know something now. Ciranel, everything I've said is real. I have spoken only a few words to you, and you have for all intents captured me. As you left you told me that if I were scared of the darkness, you would calm my fear. There's a light in the hallway, so I know you're here. I know that was meant in jest, but I hope some of it was real. Goodnight._

 _3._

 _No good deed goes unpunished. I was foolish, reckless, and blind. What have I done? I hope to the high gates of Mahal's heaven that nobody reads what I am about to write. It is forever my greatest secret._

 _Ciranel. She is an elf in Elrond's court, though if he were to find out what had transpired in his short absence, he would surely banish her and kill me. She came to me, after I called for her so this is my grievous fault. As the morning came, she and I lay in each other's arms and realized our mistake. Mistake? No it was not that. But it was dangerous that we committed ourselves to each other. Elves and dwarves only have one heart to give, and to give it to each other is simply not heard of._

 _It has been near a month since that time and I've just received a letter from Imladris. I lied to my Mother when she asked and said I was simply negotiating with the elves in Lord Elrond's court about something or other, I cannot remember. But it was from her._

 _One question haunts and hurts. Was I seeking something good or simply seeking her attention? If it was something good, then it did not go unpunished._

 _Ciranel is pregnant. She is carrying my child._

 _4._

 _The letters have continued. I have kept every single one of Ciranel's. To think that this journal was supposed to concern my father, brother, and grandfather, but as I read through my last four entries, I am surprised. For one thing, I had expected to write much more than simply four entries, but I cannot put down everything in my heart and heart on this tiny sheet of paper, especially since I put most of it in the letters I have sent Ciranel. But the entries are also about me. And Ciranel. She is taking every breath away, with all of the mistakes I've made. Yet she writes. And for all the letters that I've saved, this is everything I didn't say._

 _Thorin believes I am searching for a great treasure. In reality, I am traveling back and forth between a midway point between Imladris and Erebor. Ciranel is not so with child yet that others have noticed, but it will be soon. We are talking over our options for us and the baby. There are not many._

 _I have come to realize that as days in Erebor grow dark, I may not be here when the baby arrives. Ciranel has told me she believes it will be a baby girl. A daughter. A daughter of Durin. Dis will be so pleased. I wish to leave my daughter something in case I am gone when she arrives. Hopefully I am here, but I have begun to worry anyway._

 _Her name will be Linnor._

 _5._

 _The rest of this journal is now for you, my daughter, Linnor, who I sincerely hope is reading this now. Hopefully, you are with your mother and I, knowing how much you are loved in the world. I hope that you are a beautiful young woman when you read this. If you are reading this, Linnor, then it's time you knew. The city of Erebor is all you need. Your mother will say different, but this is what I want you to know. Durin's blood is the royal blood that runs in our veins, dominant in traits. There are warriors practicing, fight to an ancient drum. Linnor, there is so much to do! The city of Dale is splendorous and right outside our gates. We share everything we make, we joke and we forge our swords. One day, you will learn the trade as your Aunt Dis has. I don't see Thorin producing any heirs, thought Dis might if not already, but you will be an heir to Erebor._

 _My point is not to pressure you to choose my city. One day, you will ook around and realize happiness is where you are, and I will be happy if you are happy, whether that place is beside me, your mother, or if we are all together. I can picture you now, even though you are not born. You will be your mother's daughter, stubbornness and pride. She will say the same about me. Mind what she says, but remember that you may hear a voice inside. I heard it, and it lead me to your mother. Or rather, my mother heard it and pushed me out the door. If your voice starts to whisper to follow the farthest star, Linnor, that voice is who you are. Listen._

 _But here I'll stay, in Erebor, my home and people beside me. But when I think of tomorrow, there we are, together. I'll lead the way. I'll have your mother to guide me. We'll build a future together, Linnor, where we are. We will find happiness. I have found happiness where you are._

Linnor felt as if she might faint. Reading her father's words was like a dream. He had been sent to Imladris and fallen for her mother immediately. Within that time, she had fallen for him to, somewhat, and gotten pregnant. They had written letters, letters he kept. He was nervous, but he loved her before she had been born. And now, like a twisted miracle, he was writing to her from the past. And there were still more pages to read. Linnor gently trailed her fingers over her father's words. He was so happy to be a father, even though he knew it was dangerous in their situation. He loved his brother and sister and Ciranel so greatly and he was ready to give her all the love he possibly could. Linnor turned the page and stopped when she saw the title of the next entry. _Lullaby for a Princess._

"He wrote me a song?"

 _Into the stillness I'll bring you a song_

 _And I will your company keep_

 _Till your tired eyes and my lullabies_

 _Have carried you softly to sleep._

 _Carry the peace and the coolness of night_

 _And carry my sorrow in kind._

 _Linnor, you're loved so much more than you know_

 _Forgive me for being so blind_

 _May all your dreams be sweet tonight_

 _Safe upon your bed of moonlight_

 _And know not of sadness, pain or care_

 _And when I dream I'll fly away_

 _And meet you there._

 _Sleep._

 _To you, Linnor, my princess._

Linnor turned the page, in an effort to avoid the stinging in her eyes. And she found another song, another lullaby. This one was titled _Daughter of the Moon._

 _Born to be_

 _An heir of beauty and serenity_

 _Into this world you entered quietly_

 _To my surprise_

 _She was the one._

 _Destiny was close behind her_

 _Phantom of borrowed light_

 _And the sea was a reminder_

 _Mirror of given light_

 _To my Ciranel, mother of my princess. My Queen._

"He wrote us both a song." Linnor whispered. This was so much more than she had hoped for minutes ago. This was her father, here on the page. This was someone no one else in the world knew.

 _8._

 _Linnor, things are hard now. Lord Elrond has discovered your mother and I. Luckily, no one else has realized the truth yet, or else I would be subject to things I cannot imagine. He has been gracious enough to let your mother remain in Imladris until you are born. Afterwards, we can make a decision. But that no longer concerns you now, does it? It's all been decided in the way that it has. Whatever has happened, know that I love you and your mother with all my Durin heart. By this time, you must be a beautiful woman. An adult. If not, you will be._

 _I have so many hopes for you, Linnor. I hope that you are surrounded by love and happiness and fun and light. I hope I am beside you for the important times in your life._

 _I hope that you fall in love, and it hurts so bad. Do not mistake me, love. But what I've learned is that when it's real, true love then it will not be easy. In fact, it will be the hardest thing against you in life. The only way you can know is give it all you have. I hope that you don't suffer, but take the pain and hold onto it to survive and you can say that you lived. I lived._

 _9._

 _You are here. Mahal, Linnor, you are here in Middle Earth, as perfect as perfect can be. I've been granted an indefinite stay in Imladris to spend time with you and your mother. I will have to leave in two weeks time to assist my brother with some duties, but until then I can wake to see your sparkling eyes and gentle smile. Ciranel sings to you and I sit here and write. Oh, how I love the two of you. You look just like her, though she says you are like myself. I cannot wait to see as you grow._

 _Gandalf the Grey has been called as council for what we should do. He made you laugh with his smoke rings and sparks. He and Elrond are speaking of options as we wait. He mentioned that it might be difficult for you, no matter what, seeing as you are half-elven and half-dwarven. I don't care._

 _I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, Linnor, don't you cry. As I watch you, I cannot help but marvel. For one so small, you seem so strong. But my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us, father and daughter, can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry. You'll be in my heart. Yes, you'll be in my heart. From this day on, now and forever more._

 _Linnor, I want you to one day understand this. When destiny calls you, and it will, you must be strong. I may not be with you, but you've go tot hold on. They'll see in time, I know. But I want you to remember, until then. You'll be here in my heart. Always._

 _10._

 _I keep having that feeling. That feeling that something is coming, and I am not prepared for it at all. My two weeks here with you and your mother, Linnor, are nearly gone and I must away back to my people. But I have the strangest notion that I will never see you again. Isn't that odd? As I prepare to leave for a short time, I seem to know that I am leaving you, my daughter, in a far more permanent way than I ever dreamed. I hope this is not so. But still, in case, I must write this._

 _Linnor, how could I know I would have to leave you? How could I know I would hurt you so? How could I ever know? How can I say to go on without me? Though I know at this point, if I am gone, you already have. But now, when I know you still need me so? Oh, Linnor. Forgive me._

"Oh, Daddy. I do. I do." Linnor murmured softly. She turned the page and was surprised to see only one more short entry. The rest of the journal was just a small separate binder held together with a thinner strap of leather. Linnor lifted them out and took a closer look at it, although she had immediately suspected what her father would have kept with his writings.

Her mother's letters.

Linnor was tempted to open them now, see what her mother had said all that time ago. But a part of her told her to stop, and she listened. These were only half of a conversation. What if her mother had the ones her father had written? She'd get the whole story. Linnor set the bound letters aside, promising to herself to decide that later. But she had one more entry to read. To her surprise, it looked much more recent than she knew it was.

 _11._

 _Linnor, I hope you are not reading this last entry. I am back home in Erebor, yet again it feels like the last time. After this, I am hiding this journal away forever. I will bury it where it may never see the light of day until I wish it. The treasury room should be deep enough._

 _I know almost for certain that a tragedy is coming. My mother is ill with worry and grief. I know now that I will most likely perish before you are old enough to remember me, to know me. I am dead if your reading any of this._

 _There's so much light here, sweetheart. Where I am, there is light and space. The sun's so bright here, upon my face. I am not sad. This was meant to happen as it did. I hope Thorin has found you. I hope Dis has found you. I hope your mother is with you._

 _I feel so light here, warm as love in this strange, new world, above._

 _I love you, Linnor. Never forget that._

"I won't." Linnor wiped the single tear she allowed to be shed from her cheek. She closed the leather book and pressed it to her chest. Mentally she made a note to thank Bilbo with all of her heart for this gift. She didn't know how long she sat there, alone with the last pieces of her father, when there was a knock at the door.

It was Dwalin, carrying a small satchel. The big dwarf seemed to compliment the room's already dark theme whereas Linnor sweetly contrasted it.

"Linnor. We've some remaining rations that the lads and I split up. Here's your share. Make it last if you would." Dwalin said shortly.

"Dwalin." Linnor had a sudden idea. Well, no so sudden if she thought about it. After reading her father's words, and with the words Thorin had spoken to her earlier, and her own intuitive feeling that something was inevitably coming, she made a split decision that she knew was the one her father would encourage her to make.

Dwalin stopped from his retreat out of the room and turned back to face the young woman. Linnor was standing, if a little nervously, in the center of the room. There was a different air about her now, like a glow.

"Linnor?"

The sound of her name seemed to spur her decision and suddenly, she radiated determination.

"Master Dwalin, I want you to teach me how to fight."


	51. Chapter 51: Wandering Child

**A/N: Happy New Year! I hope that you all were safe and had tons of fun and your 2017 started off on a high note! To celebrate, I've written another chapter for you all. I love the sweet reviews, and I hope you continue!**

 **Song selections:**

If I Die Young by The Band Perry

Wanderer's Lullaby by Adrianne Figueroa

All That Matters by Christina Perri

The Hanging Tree from The Hunger Games

Try by Pink

 **I thought I would take a brief pause from the drama in Erebor and change perspective to another character for a moment to kill some missing time. As far as timing goes, this is by the book, where it took several days before the battle, so before Bard's first talk with Thorin through the wall. I do not own any of the above songs, nor do I own The Hobbit. I'm kind of nervous about this chapter, but here goes!**

 **Please continue to review!**

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Sigrid shivered and huddled closer to the fire, wrapping the thin, shabby blanket around her shoulders. It hardly made a difference, but she knew better than to complain, especially now. Beside her, Tilda sneezed and let out a frozen whimper, and Sigrid shifter closer to her, hoping she had some body heat for her little sister. On Tilda's other side, Bain did the same, sharing a worried and exhausted look with Sigrid.

Once every last survivor had gotten their bearings on the lake shore, amidst tears of pain, grieving, and relief, their father had taken charge and had begun to lead everyone away from the still smoking ruins of Laketown. Sigrid's heart had clenched painfully as she walked past the twisted, charred outlines of the homes and memories, the lives that had been forcefully taken from all of them. They had walked in wet and frozen clothes for the better part of the day. Bard had one arm wrapped tightly around Bain and the other around Sigrid, who had been holding Tilda in her arms. They led the way around the lake, keeping to the shallows, and all the way to the base of the Lonely Mountain. By the time dusk was falling, they had reached the similar ruins of Dale, where they had decided to make camp for the night, and they weren't the only ones.

It would seem that the Elves had a peculiar interest in Thorin Oakenshield as well, and the King seemed singularly angry. Sigrid had little experience with elves, seeing as she had met Linnor and Ciranel only two days ago. But this elf, this King of Mirkwood, was far more imposing than anyone she had ever seen. Her father had left to speak with him after he set them up in a small, broken hole. Sigrid thought it might once have been a doorway to a taller building. Bard had left them with a small fire and some blankets a few of the women had managed to save, and told them to stay there and wait for him to return.

"I want Da. Where is he, Sig?" Tilda's sweet voice came whispering from underneath her blanket, quivering from cold or near tears, Sigrid didn't know, but she held her sister tight anyway.

"He'll be back soon, I promise. Go to sleep, Til. Or try, anyways. Me and Bain will watch out for him, okay?"

The little girl gave a sleepy nod and snuggled deeper into her tattered blanket. Gently, Sigrid shifted closer to her, and moved them both closer to the whisping embers of their pitiful fire. Bain unwrapped himself from his own blanket and laid it across both of his sisters. Sigrid almost gave him a disproving look, but stopped when she saw his face. It was tight and drawn, and in that moment, he wasn't the boy he had been when they woke up that morning. He was a man now, like their father. Sigrid had a feeling that she wasn't quite the girl she used to be, either. She wondered if she looked like their mother.

"Sig…." Bain whispered, his eyes dark and reflecting the remaining embers of the fire.

"Bain, it's alright." Sigrid spoke as soft as she could without whispering, and without waking Tilda. "Whatever happened, it's all over now. You and Da are safe and here. We all are."

"But I almost wasn't." Bain's voice was pained, and she could see there was real fear, real worry underneath his brave mask, which was coming undone now that Tilda was asleep. "Me and Da, we almost got killed out there in the fire. The dragon was going to kill us, and I had that thought. I'm too young to die. Dad is too young to die. You are too young, and Tilda is way, way too young."

"So was Mom." Sigrid mentioned, knowing it would hurt to hear. "Death has a way of not caring about age. It takes, no matter what."

"But what if I had died? Or you? Or Da or Tilda? What would happen then? There's not a plan for these sort of things, Sigrid."

"Well," Sigrid paused. "If I die young, I'd want you to bury me in satin and lay me down on a bed of roses laid in the bottom of a boat and then send it off down the river. I'd ask you to sink it at dawn and then, to send me away to Heaven, sing a love song as the sun rises." Sigrid sighed and wiped away a stray tear. She looked over across their pitiful fire to see her brother's ashen face.

"Why would you say that?" Bain asked, his voice cracking a little at the end.

"You were the one who said there was no plan for if we died young. But if we did plan, it makes it all the sadder. All that matters now is where we go from here. Bain, there's an easier way if we live for today. We need to remember all we've forgotten. We've lost so much, but we didn't have all that much to begin with anyway. We've always been able to find the joy in the simplest of things. All that matters is that we are all together."

"For now. " Bain said sullenly.

They were quiet for a time, letting the fire hiss and crackle as sticks burned up. After a minute or so, Tilda rolled to the side and blinked her eyes open. With her sleep hazy eyes and youthful face, she looked so much younger than she actually was, and Sigrid wanted to cry and hold her to her chest and never let her go, in the vain hope that it could forever shield her from the world they lived in.

"I had a funny dream." Tilda yawned.

"What did you dream, Tilly?" Bain asked, doing his best to smile. If Tilda noticed, she had enough tact for her age to ignore it.

"It was a field, at first. It was covered with bright irises, and I was running through it, and I was happy. I made a chain of the flowers, and suddenly I knew everything was going to be okay. Well, I didn't know. I hoped. And then, I kept running, cause I heard someone calling my name, and all of a sudden there was this forest, and it was dark and scary, but there was this pretty tree right at the front, with a beautiful woman hanging upside down from the branches, and she asked me, 'Are you coming' and then I woke up here." Tilda finished recanting her dream, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Sigrid blinked, the hint of a smile breaking out on her solemn face, and she looked over quickly at Bain. Some color seemed to have returned to his cheeks, and he looked more like the boy who was her brother, and not the man who followed their father. It felt like suddenly she could breath easier.

"Are you coming to the tree?" Bain huffed, his eyes holding a tiny glimmer of amusement. "Wearing a necklace of hope? Only you, not me?"

"I could make you one." Tilda giggled, the first sign of happiness Sigrid had seen on her small face in several days. "But you'd look rather strange wearing a chain of flowers, Bain."

"No stranger would it be if we met at midnight in that tree of yours. We've all got to be a little strange. It makes things interesting." Sigrid grinned. "Who wants the same boring thing everyday?"

"As I recall, your mother did when she decided to marry me."

"Da!"

Their father scrambled down over some of the higher debris of the old city and made his way over to the three of them and their dying fire. His body was tense, but his face lit up with a gentle joy as he looked over his daughters and son. Bard sat down in the middle of them, drawing Bain and Tilda into his side, his right arm reaching out and cupping Sigrid's cheek. She pressed her face into his calloused palm.

"I'm sorry I took so long. You're cold, and the fire is nearly gone. The flame is-ah!"

Bard had taken his hand away from Sigrid and had reached forward to stoke the fire in an effort to rekindle some of the dryer wood. Suddenly as if spurred by magic, the flames leapt up and a great heat swelled over them. Sigrid's face felt flushed, and even in the dark and cold, she felt happier than she had moments ago. Her eyes went to her father, who was nursing his singer fingers.

'The flame got me a little, Sig. I'm all right. Where there's a flame, someone is always bound to get burned. Doesn't mean I'm going to die." Bard smiled at his eldest daughter with humor and no small amount of love.

They sat there with their newly lit fire, all together. Despite the destruction, despite the coming war, despite everything horrible and tragic that had happened to them and would happen to them, Sigrid felt, oddly enough, that they had never been closer as a family. Not since Ma had died so long ago.

The blankets, fire, and Bard's arms soon became a more comfortable warmth, and it wasn't long before Tilda drifted off to sleep again, into her dream with the hope flowers and the beautiful tree woman. Soon Sigrid saw Bain's head nodding onto their father's shoulder, and even her eyes began to droop.

"Da?" Sigrid's voice was more like a sigh now. "Do you remember that song? The one you and Ma used to dance around to? The other lullaby?"

" _Wandering child of the earth_

 _Do you know just how much you're worth?_

 _You have walked this path since your birth_

 _You were destined for more._

 _There are those who'll tell you you're wrong_

 _They will try to silence your song_

 _But right here is where you belong_

 _So don't search any more_

 _You are the dawn of a new day_

 _That's waking_

 _A masterpiece still in the making_

 _The blue in an ocean of grey_

 _You are right where you need to be_

 _Poised to inspire and to succeed_

 _You'll look back and you'll realize one day_

 _Though the world may try to define you_

 _It can't take the light that's inside you_

 _So don't you dare try to hide_

 _Let your fears fade away."_

Bard's singing was rough and off-key, but the melody was simple and Sigrid loved it just as much as she always had. It soothed the rest of her and she lost herself in a dreamless sleep, surrounded by her family.


	52. Chapter 52: Lesson Number One

**A/N: Today is the last day of Christmas break, which means that this is the last update for a while. Sorry, but reality is calling my name and I can't ignore it forever, much as I want to.**

 **The songs below are:**

Warrior by Beth Crowley

Lesson Number One from Mulan II

Like Other Girls from Mulan II

I'll Make A Man Out Of You from Mulan

 **You can probably guess where this is going! I am horrible at writing fight scenes, but I did my best. Anyways, general disclaimers still apply. I own nothing except Linnor. I hope you guys continue to read and review.**

* * *

"Let's get down to business." Dwalin snarled.

Linnor had been surprised when, upon her request that he teach her how to fight, he had simply nodded and suggested they start immediately. Dwalin had taken her straight down the twisting stone corridors with a comfortable ease that she didn't expect, and they soon found themselves in chamber only slightly smaller than the treasury room. But instead of mountains of gold, jewels and other precious items, the walls were covered in an array of weaponry, and the center of the room was cleared out for sparring. Linnor eagerly went towards the wall where a neat line of swords awaited, but she found her path blocked by Dwalin's bulk.

"I have trained many a dwarf, lass. I trained Thorin and his brother, and I trained Dis. I trained her two sons, your cousins. And I will train you, as you requested. I am the teacher here. Weapons are the last lesson." The surly dwarf spoke with an authoritative voice Linnor hadn't heard before, and she had no doubt that he trained all those before her in her family.

"Okay, Master Dwalin.' Linnor nodded and took a step backwards. "So, if weapons are the final lesson, then what's lesson number one?"

"I am so glad you asked that." A new voice spoke up from behind her, and she turned to see her teacher's white-haired, more pleasant brother. Balin walked peacefully towards the two of them, seemingly content, but as he came closer, Linnor saw the hard edge to his eyes, and the tense posture about him.

"Master Balin, what are you doing here?"

"I was hoping that you would be asking my brother here for some fighting lessons. If you hadn't, I would have insisted. We have come through not even the worst of the war, my dear. We all must be prepared, and that includes you. Now, I know you have some talent with the broadsword, as I recall from Mirkwood. But you have not been trained like we all have. But, alas, we don't have the standard twenty-five years as custom, so we'll just have to cram it all at once, shall we?" Balin moved to stand off to the side of the sparring area.

"Okay. But what about lesson number one?" Linnor questioned, turning back to Dwalin.

"I was getting to that." Balin reprimanded. "I said we would cram, not rush through it all. There are exercises first, for your muscles. Dwalin will show you. "

Linnor bowed her head in apology. She knew it was necessary to go through everything, but time was short and she was becoming anxious. If Balin knew she was talented with the broadsword, then why couldn't she just start from there? Why did she have to start with these simple aerobics? She sighed and moved into position as Dwalin showed her. Slowly, she began to follow his body movements in motions that resembled fighting techniques. It was much more complicated than she had thought. Her feet were kicking and lunging, she was rolling and leaping and dodging, and her arms were swinging, punching, shielding, shooting and every other form of pantomime fighting imaginable. It wasn't long before she was panting trying to keep up, and her arms and legs ached with a fire worthy of Smaug.

"This is why we do these things." Balin's voice floated from outside her peripheral vision. "Your endurance is low. You cannot fight in a battle if you cannot save your strength or speed. Everything is connected. Sword and speed. Strength and might. Earth, sky, day and night. Sound and silence, and dark and light."

Dwalin chuckled and stopped his rough motion of a swinging ax, turning to face his newest pupil. Linnor froze, curious.

"One alone is not enough. You need both together." Dwalin smirked as his brother came to stand beside him, and Linnor relaxed for a second and smiled at the two most unlikely of kin. "Winter, Summer, Moon and Sun."

In a flash, Linnor was on her back, having her knees knocked from under her by the elderly dwarf, who looked down on her reprovingly, but with a twinkle in his eye.

"Lesson number one. Begin."

Linnor scrambled to her feet. She placed her feet as Dwalin showed her, her arms up in a fighting stance. The tattooed dwarf nodded once and took his stance across from her, so that they were sparring face to face. Balin watched from the side with a critical eye. They began to move again, and as they stretched and trained, Balin spoke advice from his spot as instructor. Linnor did her best to listen as she dodged mock throws from Dwalin and deliver some of her own.

"Remember, Linnor. You must be hard like a rock in your deliveries. No hesitation. You may be only pretending now, but if you punch like that on a real attacker, it will not do you much good."

"Don't go easy on me, lassie." Dwalin whispered. "I won't be on you for long."

As soon as he said the words, he gave a mighty punch that caught her in the shoulder. In that second, Linnor's entire arm went numb and she gasped, her eyes watering with the pain. But Dwalin was still advancing, so she took it in stride and rolled to prevent his next swing from striking her in the face.

"Good, Linnor! But remember, you must be like an oak: strong and unwavering. Never show that you are in pain, or they will use it against you. Your motions must cut quick, like a blade. Fighting is about thinking fast, and you must be unafraid to take chances and risks, lest the time you spend thinking instead costs you a life."

Linnor leapt to her feet and swung her fist with all her might, and with a sickening crack, it met Dwalin's cheek full on. His head whipped to the side and his own hand went to his cheek in astonishment. Linnor's swing had a lot of momentum behind it, and unfortunately, she had not been expecting him to turn. With a yelp, Linnor found herself being carried forward with her own speed and toppling to the ground at Dwalin's feet. She groaned as she propped herself on her elbows.

"Relax. You are only halfway there for this lesson. You are still out of balance." Balin spoke up, his voice gentle and firm. "Stand."

Linnor did as she was told, and braced herself for another fight. Surprisingly, Balin motioned for her to lay her arms down and he began to breathe deeply. Linnor swallowed nervously and closed her eyes. She breathed in, and out, and in, and out, and slowly she felt her body come down into a more relaxed state.

"Linnor," Balin spoke again, but her eyes remained closed. It was as if he spoke from within her mind. "Remember, there are opposites in fighting. You must be strong and unyielding and brave, but you must also be everything against it as well. You are hard like a rock, but as soft as a cloud. Give a hard blow, but you must also be ready to take one. You stand firm like an oak against the ememy, but you must be able to bend in the wind. You must be brave in the face of danger, but that also means being at peace with the fact that you are afraid. It's okay to be afraid, Linnor. We all are. But it must not stop you."

"It's okay to be afraid. Strong, yet flexible. Hard, and soft." Linnor repeated softly, opening her eyes. She met the older dwarves straight on and took another breath. Finally, she gave a hard, determined smile and nodded. Balin and Dwalin glanced at each other, and then each nodded in turn.

"And that, Linnor, is lesson number one." Balin smiled and then motioned over to his brother. "And now we move on. Time is of the essence, and before we're through, Linnor, we will have made a warrior out of you."

Over the next however many hours, Dwalin and Linnor sparred one on one, neither one holding back. Balin had to admit that Linnor had the advantage of looking tranquil as a forest, but that girl was on fire within. He watched as his brother took her down again and again. Balin sighed. She was determined, he'd give her that. But she had yet to find her center. If she found it, her center and balance in her core, that she'd be sure to win. But as Dwalin tacked her once again to the mat, Balin had to wonder if she really was meant to be a fighter. After all, Ori was a fully fledged dwarf and he carried a slingshot for Mahal's sake.

"Alright, enough." Balin called, walking towards his brother and youngest heir.

"What? No, Balin, I can do this. I can learn. Please, I-"

"Linnor, my brother may be right. How could I make a warrior out of you? You are trying to learn things any born dwarf would have learned over twenty-five years of childhood, and then practiced all the way until adulthood and beyond. This is ridiculous, and I am sorry. You are a princess. This was a mistake."

Linnor shot up in disbelief, staring at her two friends, who had become her teachers for the last several hours. Her hair was messed and wild, her clothing torn and sweaty, and her lip was puffed slightly from a blow she had failed to duck. Her whole body ached and she was feeling more torn apart than ever before on this wildly insane quest, and they wanted to stop now?

"The life of a princess, from her birth, is well defined." Linnor said, and she was proud that there was no hint of a quiver in her voice, though she felt as if she was shaking. "She must humbly serve her country, and play the part she's been assigned. But Dis is a princess, too, is she not?" Linnor thought of her aunt, a woman who was blood and yet she had never met, and who had never heard of her. "You said you trained Dis to fight, and she was fierce and deadly as any dwarf."

Linnor could see that the two brothers knew that what she said was true, but it wasn't enough. They truly didn't believe as they had hours ago that she could be taught to effectively fight. If there was a war coming, and she knew in her heart that there was, then even inside the walls wouldn't be safe. She had to learn.

"Teach me how to fight." Linnor demanded, and the two dwarves jumped slightly in shock. "Teach me how to fight, and I'll show you I can win. Let me feel the sting, the pain, the burn under my skin. I've fought before, in the moment. I know I can do it. Put me to the test. I'll prove that I am strong. I'll prove to you that behind this soft exterior is a warrior, a true warrior of Durin."

They stood there, the three of them, waiting for someone to make the next move. Linnor kept her gaze wide and sincere, yet steely and determined. Balin had told her to be full of opposites. As she met his kindly eyes, she saw a spark of recognition and his mouth was taught for a moment before he turned to his brother. They spoke low and rushed in a language that was foreign to her ears. After what seemed an eternity to Linnor, they broke apart and Dwalin stepped forward.

"Come. Once more."

Linnor walked around and took her place across from Master Dwalin. She closed her eyes for a split second and breathed deeply. In her mind, she saw the battle field, ragged and bloody, the bodies of her friends and enemies draped over each other in a brutal massacre. She saw herself, draped in amour, and a final villain blocking her path. As she focused on that vision, she felt it, in her heart. It was a familiar thrum, a roaring in her veins, the blaring white noise in her ears that made every part of her come alive and sing with energy. In her head, a pulse had started and Linnor moved in time with it as she and Dwalin advanced on each other.

 _Must be swift as a coursing river_

 _With all the force of a great typhoon_

 _With all the strength of a raging fire_

 _Mysterious as the dark side of the moon_

"Enough!"

Balin's voice cut through her battle stupor and Linnor blinked to find herself standing above Dwalin, who was lying flat upon his back on the floor, a wide deranged smile breaking loose on his face. Linnor stepped back, breathing hard, even though this time, she hardly felt winded. She felt giddy, alive, and excited beyond anything she had ever felt before. Balin was standing in front of her, his eyes merry and bright. In a fluid motion, Dwalin was up beside her and his hand landed firmly on her shoulder. Both dwarves were beaming at her with pride, and her heart swelled.

"I think," Balin said, "it's time we got you some armor."


	53. Chapter 53: Unwell

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been a little while since my last update. But I'm working on some more chapters so hopefully things will be coming up soon! I'm changing the order of a few events from the movie, so I'm sorry if the flow is a little off. I promise it will all work out.**

 **The songs below are:**

Unwell by Matchbox Twenty

King of Anything by Sara Bareilles

Circus of Your Mind by Paloma Faith

 **They were mainly for inspiration this time rather than actual lyrics. But a few are in there, so I'm letting you guys know what I've used as a general disclaimer. I don't own the songs, nor do I own the Hobbit characters, places, etc.**

 **Please continue to review!**

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?"

 _So close,_ Linnor thought. She was standing with Dwalin and Balin in front of what used to be the royal armory. Through the open archway, Linnor could make out the silvery shine of chest plates, mail, helmets and arm guards and many other things she didn't have a name for. All were a few feet away from where they stood now. Balin and Dwalin flanked her sides, and both looked about as apprehensive as she felt. Slowly, all three of them turned to face their stony King.

Thorin's face was strikingly cold and impassive, his black eyes glittering hungrily. They reminded her of Beorn, expect Beorn's eyes hadn't been so devoid of light, or emotion. The gold ironwork crown was settled proudly upon his brow, his mass of hair swelling up and around it like a wave, settling on his shoulders like a curtain. He wore a different cloak now, dark and rusty, like the color of blood, with silver and gold thread woven through it. All together, Linnor thought Thorin looked like he had when he had come to Imladris: familiar, yet at the same time, a complete stranger.

"Thorin." Balin gave his old friend a gentle smile, but Linnor could see the underlying nervousness it held. "We were just-"

"You were just nothing." Thorin cut the old dwarf off with a pointed look. "Only you and your brother have any need, or right, to be down this way. Why is she here?"

The dismissiveness with which he spoke startled Linnor and a chill spread from the tips of her fingers to the center of her chest. It was as if she didn't even matter to him anymore! Linnor could vaguely hear Balin starting to give some pleasant, half-truthed version to explain their presence in front of the armory to Thorin, but her focus was on the new vision of her uncle. Her eyes were drawn again to the circlet crown, the point of which settled right between his eyes like a dark arrow. It was as if there was no longer any recognition in his eyes. The Thorin she had come to know and love like family truly was gone. In his place, there was only a hard, stone king.

"They were taking me to get some armour." Linnor interrupted whatever excuse Balin was in the middle of conjuring. "Masters Balin and Dwalin have been training me in combat all day, and they thought that-"

"They've been what?" Thorin snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Did I hear the girl correctly? You've been teaching her to fight?"

The two elder dwarves exchanged a look Linnor couldn't decipher before Dwalin nodded once.

"Aye, Thorin. We did. She has some talent with a broadsword already. We just brushed up on some basic techniques. She deserves to be suited like the rest. She is a Durin, and a warrior."

"She is also my niece, my responsibility. I am King, not you, Dwalin, and thusly, I will make the calls when it concerns my family. She is not a warrior. She will never be a warrior. You should never have taught her, especially behind my back. I don't know where you got the vile idea to do so, but-"

"It was my idea. I asked him to train me." Linnor broke through her uncle's furious tirade. She spoke with the same chilling coolness that seemed to have taken over her body. Thorin's eyes moved to her, and the cold intensified.

"Why? I expected nothing less from you, Linnor, than to be quiet and behave until this mess of war has been sorted out. I told you to go to your room and the next thing I know, you're being escorted to be fitted for armor you were never meant to wear."

"Why can't I?" Linnor shot back, her eyes narrowing as Thorin spoke. The cold had become painful, and her heart slammed against her chest in order to keep warm, and her breathing was becoming labored. But no one seemed to notice. "You've seen what I can do, Thorin, even though you've forgotten. Or maybe you don't care. Ever since you put that stupid crown on your almighty head, you've changed into some kind of heartless, unfeeling monster who doesn't seem to notice that he's made enemies out of his own kin!"

"Silence!" Thorin raised his hand as if to strike her across her face, and Linnor involuntarily took a step back, her eyes wide with fear. Balin and Dwalin moved forward slightly, as if to block her from Thorin's wrath. Linnor was still looking at her uncle, who was frozen with his hand still raised, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. She couldn't believe it. He was going to hit her.

After a moment, Thorin finally, slowly, dropped his hand back to his side, his eyes flaring menacingly. He took a deep breath before picking the conversation back up seamlessly, as if he hadn't almost struck his niece.

"I am King. I am King Under the Mountain. And that means I have the final say in all things that take place in my city. If I disagree, then-"

"Who cares if you disagree?" Linnor had had enough. She had to get away from him. From all of them. "You are not me, Thorin. You say you are king, but all I see is someone who is so desperate for power, he has taken to commanding a girl to be someone she is not. I will not be ordered to be any which way you please, Thorin. You are not the king of me. You are not my father. You are not my father."

Linnor straightened her back, her bright eyes staring right back into her uncle's dark ones, and quickly she marched forward, brushing past him, before she broke into a run behind him and away into the depths of the city.

* * *

Dwalin watched as the young princess broke into a run past Thorin and make her way down an unfamiliar corridor into the rest of the city. As soon as she was gone, Dwalin whirled with astonished eyes to face his friend and King, only to see Thorin rubbing his forehead absently with one hand, his shoulders slumped inwardly, as if bearing a great weight.

"Thorin?" Dwalin exchanged another concerned look with his brother before tentatively reaching out a hand and laying it on Thorin's shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"I've had enough." Thorin spoke as if Dwalin hadn't. "I've spent my life searching for something I'll never find. It's gone. It's all darkness where the light should be. Why isn't it here?"

"The Arkenstone?" Balin spoke up through Thorin's muttering, causing the dwarf to jerk up in agitation, as if hearing the name of the blessed stone caused him physical agony.

"What else? It hasn't been found. Somebody has to have stolen it. Someone here. Someone in the company. Someone-"

"Thorin, please listen to yourself. You sound mad. You must talk to us, tell us what is going on in your mind. You've driven everyone else away. You've practically shunned Fili, you've done nothing but berate Kili, and now you've ignored and insulted your only niece." Balin pleaded kindly, resting his hand on Thorin's other shoulder. "It feels like you're heading for a breakdown, and no one knows why."

There was a pause. There they stood, the three old friends, all lost in their own minds. Suddenly, like the flash of the sun on a blade, Thorin straightened and moved away from their hands, his eyes once again bottomless pits, revealing nothing.

"You think I'm crazy? Am I crazy for wanting to reclaim every piece of Erebor that was stolen from me, from us? I'm not crazy. If anything, I'm just a little unwell. Things will change. But I will still be King of Erebor."

"Thorin-"

"Go."

The order was clear and so was Thorin's expression. The two brothers became still, and then, without anything more, they moved around him and began to walk back the way they had come, leaving Thorin standing alone.

* * *

Thorin stood there a long time after his subjects had let him be. The words in his head wouldn't let him alone and his whirled to glare down the empty corridor to where he knew the rest of the company was.

 _I know they've all been talking about me._ Thorin thought darkly. _I can hear them whisper. They think there's something wrong with me, as if somehow I've lost my mind. But I am the only one who's actually thinking clearly. We must prevail. I must succeed. I must have the Arkenstone. It is the only way. I will not rest. I can't. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it._

"I will have it." Thorin whispered to himself, his low voice rumbling slightly off the walls. "No matter the consequences."


	54. Chapter 54: Voices

**A/N: Hello again! School was canceled so I decided to whip up another chapter, this time from the perspective of two semi-forgotten characters. I am, of course, talking about Legolas and Bilbo. Like I said, things are going to go a little off track so please bear with me.**

 **The songs below are:**

Her Voice from The Little Mermaid

Superheros by The Script

 **Also: Just for fun, if you have a preference of who should (or should not) die in the Battle of The Five Armies, leave a comment or PM me! I really want to know: Ciranel, Thorin, Fili or Kili. Or someone else entirely!**

 **The Hobbit characters, places and etc. as well as the songs listed above do not belong to me. Please read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

The hard grey desolation stretched out for leagues beyond his sight, the horizon barely distinguishable from the ever present fog that lingered around him. The air was wet and heavy, slowing him down as he made his way around the side of the cliff. He paused, listening. After a moment, he continued on, keeping low to the ground in an effort to hide, though the weather seemed to be on his side for that.

Legolas swiftly leapt over another boulder, his elf eyes scanning through the greyness keenly. This was uncharted territory, widely known for the habitation of orc filth and other such monsters. This was the edge of Middle Earth, where the darkness had festered for years, becoming home to the most detestable things ever created. Legolas's eyes narrowed as he made out a larger rock formation in the distance.

With lithe steps, he bounded over the rocky terrain to the edge of the cliff until he rested on the very edge. Cautiously, suddenly acutely aware of his silver-gold hair against the bleakness of his surroundings, the elf peered over the rocks and down below.

Suddenly his memories invaded his line of sight, and he was a child again, feeling a fury far beyond his years as his father led him to the body of the torturous spawn of evil that had killed his mother only moments before.

They had been riding out among the woods, taking trails that lined the river and spanning around their borders. It was supposed to be a day just for them, a rare day spent with his mother and father. His mother, the Queen, was further ahead, sending laughing glances back at her husband and her son. He rode beside his father, proud to be no more that Legolas Greenleaf that day, not Prince Legolas Greenleaf. It was a happy day.

And then-Legolas saw red then, his memories washing over him stronger than before, and he clenched his jaw to stop the snarl that threatened to escape. Looking down, he didn't see the empty valley swarming with armoured orcs. He saw the edge of the Greenwood, his mother standing just so far away. He heard, not the war drums, but the sudden twang of a hidden bow, releasing the arrow that lodged into his mother's chest. He heard screams, his broken one mixing with his father's shock and fury and the battle cries of the elven soldiers alongside the ambush of orcs.

Legolas blinked, his eyes refocusing on the army marching below him. They were the same vile things that had haunted his waking dreams for centuries. He reached back behind him, feeling the smooth steel of his blades, and the thick leather of his quiver. His fingers twitched.

 _Legolas_

The elf jerked back from the ledge, his breathing hard and unnecessarily labored. That voice….not just any voice, but hers. Her voice. It had echoed in his mind and body and heart, like a warning bell.

"Linnor…" Legolas whispered, and suddenly, with a speed to rival even the legended Shadowfax of the Rohan riders, he spun back around, away from the army of villains and to his own steed. He swung up on the saddle and thrashed the reigns in a single movement, and he was off again, back towards Erebor where he knew his love would be. Or at least, he hoped.

"Somewhere there's a girl who's like a swell of endless music." Legolas chanted to his horse, whose hooves were pounding the terrain with vicious fervor. "She is singing a song meant for me. She is singing to me. I must get back."

 _Legolas….My Legolas_

It's her voice. He knew it. It was as sweet as angels sighing, yet he knew how hard it could become. His mind wandered now, back to his short memories of this elven-dwarven girl. He suddenly felt warm, as if he was standing underneath a summer sky instead of in the biting chill of horseback. He would make it before the war began. He had to.

* * *

Bilbo Baggins sat looking out on the desolation of the mountain. He could see the flickering fires a hundred feet below. Bard, along with his men and several of King Thranduil's, had taken station at the midway point between the gates of Erebor and the ruins of Dale, where the rest of the two groups had taken refuge. Bilbo could see the huddles and tents from here. In the morning, they all would be dismantled as they gathered at the base of the wall and asked for payment once again.

Thorin's answer, he knew, would still be the same.

The hobbit sighed, turning away from the horrid bleakness of the world and instead to the depressing bleakness of the inside. He knew somewhere in the city, the others were gathered, discussing Thorin and the war that would inevitably begin within the next three days, at most. And all because their friend, their king, was so blinded by his obsession, his greed, that he couldn't see what was happening right outside his door.

At that thought, Bilbo moved his hand unconsciously to his pocket, where _it_ was hidden. _It_ was like a pressing weight upon his heart. Now he was the keeper of two great secrets, both far beyond what he had even imagined to bargain with. One was in his waistcoat pocket, and the other was here, in his inner breast pocket, held close to his chest. If Thorin ever knew-

"What have you got in your pocket?"

It was like he was suddenly back in that goblin tunnel, with that wretched creature, Gollum, and the riddles in the dark. He could almost feel his hissing breath, his spindly fingers reaching out to grasp at his open throat-

"Bilbo."

It wasn't Gollum. It was Thorin. Bilbo jumped, all of a sudden faced with a highly paranoid dwarf King walking towards him. His hand clenched, his fingers slipping the tiniest object into his palm. The Shire hobbit swallowed nervously as Thorin's eyes glinted, his gait slowing to perceive his company member cruelly.

"What have you got? Show it to me."

There was a threatening edge to his voice that Bilbo had never heard spoken to friend. Suddenly, Bilbo knew he wasn't a friend to Thorin anymore. None of them were. They were all enemies to the Dragon Sickness.

With timid trepidation, Bilbo held out his hand, fist closed. Thorin leaned forward greedily, eagerly as Bilbo opened it to reveal…an acorn.

"I took it. From Beorn's. Somehow I've kept hold of it." Bilbo explained. "I've quite forgotten about it, you know, in all this excitement. When everything is over, when I return home to Bag-end, I'm going to plant it in my garden. And I'm going to watch it grow."

There was a frozen pause of what could only have been astonishment. A dark look passed over Thorin's face, but before Bilbo could take a closer look, it was gone and suddenly, Thorin's face was nothing but one of tired relief. It was as if the sickness had suddenly let go and here instead stood the stoic dwarf who chided his nephews, though his eyes would always sparkle merrily at their antics, his smiles rare but always real.

"Huh." Thorin let out a laugh and shook his head. "I thought…no. I can see now that I was wrong." He clapped a heavy hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "That is a fine idea, Master Hobbit."

Thorin moved with heavy steps away from him. He looked out over the scene which Bilbo had only done moments before. The hobbit remained where he was, a little uncertain. They stood there, Thorin watching the world and Bilbo watching Thorin, for a long time.

"This is everything to me, Master Hobbit. I've been fighting for this all my life, struggling to make things right after the mistakes of my father and grandfather. And now…now the world is desperate to tear it from my grasp once again. My enemies…my friends…my kin."

Thorin turned back around again, and Bilbo's heart sunk at the darkness enveloped in his eyes. The Thorin whose trust he had earned on this insane quest, the Thorin who was concerned for his friends and family, who would die for them….he was gone. In his place stood a King, grasped with an obsession for the item hidden in Bilbo's own pocket.

"You are the only person I can trust, Bilbo." Thorin smiled, but it wasn't nice. It broke his heart.

Bilbo skilled his face into one of blank innocence. He could not give anything away. Already, he was forming a risky plan. Thorin could not get his hands on the Arkenstone. As much as the King argued the opposite, finding the stone would only worsen his condition. Bilbo knew what he had to do. He also knew what his friends would do if they caught him.

"I want you on first watch tonight. At midnight, you wake Bofur. In the meantime, you can join the others in a full sweep of the entire city. The Arkenstone is here somewhere. I can feel it." Thorin's hand clasped Bilbo's shoulder tightly and the dwarf swiftly led the hobbit out and away into the heart of the city.

Bilbo nodded once more. He didn't trust himself to speak again. Already, his heart felt heavy with the thought of his decision. He thought of Balin, giving him warning of the sickness. He thought of Thorin, hugging him on the Carrock in a show of thanks. He thought of Fili and Kili, the last heirs, who were torn up at the changes in their uncle. There was no choice.

He would leave tonight, with the Arkenstone.


	55. Chapter 55: Talking to Myself

**A/N: All right, here we go. The Battle of the Five Armies is approaching fast. But not yet! There are a few more decisions to be made before then. This is a little more emotional, especially for Linnor. Sorry for the slow pacing.**

 **The songs below are:**

Endless Night from The Lion King

If Only from The Little Mermaid

On My Own from Les Miserables

Set It All Free from Sing

Reflection from Mulan

Proud of Your Boy from Aladdin

How Far I'll Go from Moana

 **I know there are a lot of songs, but trust me, it all works out. I don't own any of these songs, nor do I own the Hobbit.**

 **Please continue to review! I'd really appreciate some, especially with the upcoming chapters.**

* * *

Balin watched from the shadows as Linnor tore down the hallways towards the rooms. He watched her reach the door to Frerin's chambers, and keep going away from her allotted room. Balin sighed. He'd had a feeling she'd wish to enter the other one eventually. He couldn't blame her. Dis's room was significantly more feminine than Frerin's ever was. Though, the deceased prince did have quite a few more paintings and tapestries than the princess ever did.

Balin moved slowly away from the wall as Linnor made it to the blue tinted door, infused with diamond veins and sapphire inlets, and with only a slight hesitation, she entered her aunt's room and shut the door.

"Ah, bless you child." Balin shook his head sadly. "Thorin has made quite a mess of things, hasn't he? If only I knew how, I'd make him see the light. Though if it were all up to me, this all would turn out right. We all would. We want to help. You and Thorin and Fili and Kili. If you only knew."

* * *

Linnor slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to press the angry tears back in, and slid down the door until she hit the floor. She tucked her knees to her chest and rested her chin down.

"If only…" she whispered.

Whether it was a few minutes or a few hours, she didn't really know. Eventually, LInnor lifted her head and looked around at the new rom she found herself in.

This was Dis's room. Her aunt, and Fili and Kili's mother. The walls were a sort of cobalt blue, the color of the evening sky in summer, or just before a storm. It was identical to Frerin's, with the portraits and the dresser and the curtains and window balcony. The only difference was that instead of fur, the bed was laid with white linen, with gold seams. It was beautiful, so unlike her room in Imladris but with the same feeling of openness and comfort. There was a large mirror on the opposite wall, in a frame of silver.

Slowly, Linnor stood from her spot on the floor. Suddenly she felt drawn to that mirror, the glass portraying her reflection with such startling clarity that, for a moment, it scared her. Her eyes were bloodshot, with deep, dark circles underneath. Her hair was stringy and lank, and her clothes were tattered beyond repair. Vaguely, she remembered that there were probably still clothes in the drawers here in her aunt's room, but Linnor couldn't drag her eyes from her own face.

 _Who is that girl I see?_ Linnor thought to herself, one hand reaching up absently to caress a spot of blood on her cheek, the dried, crusty remnants of Laketown.

 _She's staring straight back at me, but I don't recognize her. Is that me? It can't be. She looks nothing like….have I always looked this way? No…but it must be. But this girl doesn't look like she ever had a family, or a home, or love and kindness. She looks like she survived a warzone, a nightmare. She's defeated. But I am not that weak. Am I?_

"When will my reflection show who I am inside?" Linnor moaned to herself, her reflection mimicking her anguish and frustration perfectly.

Linnor moved her intense gaze to the portrait on the wall. Similar to her father's room, there were many tapestries and drawings of Dis and her siblings over her walls. There was even a small one of her and a man Linnor didn't recognize. Fili and Kili's father. But the one she looked at now was of three dwarves, clearly of royalty.

Thorin, Dis, and Frerin.

"Father…" Linnor touched the thin threads that made together one of the only renderings of her dead father. "Father, you promised me you would be here whenever I needed you. But you're not. You never were. And the one time I need you, when I've learned so much about who I am and where I come from and what is at stake here….it's all one big nightmare and all I dream of is how would life be different….if you had never gone to Moria."

It was true. After reading that journal, and knowing what she did of her father's death, Linnor hadn't been able to help herself from wondering what might have been. Frerin would be by her side, here with her uncle and her cousins. He and Ciranel would have found a way…they would have been a family. She wouldn't have been a prisoner all her life.

"I know that the night must end, and the sun will rise. It doesn't change anything." Linnor spoke to the frozen face of the tapestry. "I keep hoping that maybe I'll hear your voice deep inside of me, guiding me home. Something. Anything."

Linnor paused, waiting. There was nothing but silence from the picture. Linnor let out a laugh that sounded slightly crazed, even to her own ears.

"And here I am, talking to a decoration. As if you'd reply. Especially to me. I've made a lot of mistakes, Father." Linnor walked away from the wall, absentmindedly moving to open drawers, looking at some of the long forgotten clothing Dis had left behind.

"As long as I can remember, I've always wanted more. I wanted a mother and a father, I wanted freedom, I wanted adventure, and now…now look where that got me. Where that got so many innocent people."

She pulled out a piece of dark leathery material from the drawers. It wasn't feminine or elegant or anything of the sort. Linnor frowned and moved back towards the bed to lay it down. Something wasn't right about this piece, but she just couldn't figure out what. Quickly, Linnor stripped out of her own disgusting tatters and reached for the new garment.

"I can't seem to stop myself, though. From going after what I want. Every turn I take, every trail I track, every path I make…it all leads back to here. I always come back to Thorin and the boys and Erebor and I just don't know how far I'll go before it's too far and by then…"

Linnor's words died in her mouth as she turned to look at herself. What she had found was, apparently, a style of female battle armor. Or at least, some basic training and protective gear. The material was a black, sleek leather that was clearly made for someone of shorter and broader stature. On Linnor, it was tight and confining, but it didn't look all that bad. In fact, it made her disheveled appearance look more easy.

"I don't know if this is what you wanted for me, Father." Linnor swallowed hard, a sudden image of her mother and father flashing before her eyes mixed with the words written in Frerin's jounal. "I know my mother probably had her own ideas of how I would turn out. And here I am, most likely disappointing both of you."

Well, maybe disappoint was a strong word. Linnor knew she was probably closer to what her father would have wanted than what Ciranel wished, but still, there was this feeling in her heart that on some level, it wasn't right.

"I wish I could be the perfect daughter. Although, in my defense, I technically wasn't anybody's daughter until a few days ago." Linnor didn't know why she was still talking out loud to the empty room, but she didn't want to stop. "I want to make you proud. I want to make you proud of your girl, Father. Now, I can't make myself shorter, or more dwarvish or prettier or smarter or anything worth your time. But I'll do my best. I promise."

Linnor nodded at herself in the mirror, as if she was confirming for herself and her dead father that what she said was the truth. With a deep breath, she turned away and started to the door. Suddenly, a flash of silver-gold flared in her vision and she stopped dead in her tracks. Linnor blinked a few times and scanned the room. There was nothing. Nothing that would flash, or would even be close enough to that shade of whitish gold. Linnor looked towards the open window, where the balcony faced the side of the mountain, over to the vast outlands of Middle Earth.

Quickly, Linnor clambered out of the bed chamber and outside to the frigid night. It had to be nearly sundown. It was already so black. Linnor peered out over the distant grounds but she saw nothing. For a moment, she had thought…she had hoped that the flash might have been hair. She knew of only one person with that exact color. But he was far, far away.

"I'm on my own. " Linnor sighed, fingering her new coarse clothes. "All alone." She looked back to the tapestry.

" _And I know_

 _it's only in my mind._

 _That I'm talking to myself_

 _And not to him. "_

Then, back to the window and the foreign terrain out and beyond. Somewhere, Legolas was there, counting on her to survive and to see him again after the war.

There! There is was again! A sudden flash across the grey expanse of rock. Linnor rushed back to the window and narrowed her eyes. Dis's room was further around the side of the mountain than Frerin's, so she was out of view of the front gates and Dale. But there….no more than a league away. It was like a shadow, a wisp on the wind, riding down the side of the valley to Erebor.

"A horse and rider." She breathed, peering closer. Her eyes widened as she caught another flash as the light from the rising moon hit the elf's hair in streaks. "Legolas."

She watched as the horse and rider continued down the side of the valley and then suddenly made a sharp turn away from where she watched, this time around to the front of the city.

Linnor tore to the door of her room, and gently pried the door open. Cautiously, she stuck her head out and looked down the hall. If she was caught now, there was no way Thorin would let her out of her room ever again. She listened and waited. Nothing. Linnor slipped out of the room, letting the door click gently shut behind her. Softly, with a strange elf-like grace, she moved down the hallway and in the general direction of the front gates at a brisk jog. She knew time was short, especially if she wanted to get into Dale and back. Linnor swung around the corner-and was thrown backwards onto the ground.

"What the-?"

"Linnor!"

Suddenly, Bilbo was there, reaching down to help her up. Linnor took his hand gratefully, brushing the grime off as she did so.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, to which Linnor returned a wry smile.

"I could say the same to you."

They stood there for a few moments, breathing hard. Linnor eyed Bilbo curiously. He looked ill, as if his face was stretched a little thinner with fatigue and stress. She could hardly blame him.

"Look," he finally spoke, casting a nervous glance around them. "You can't tell anyone you've seen me. It's very important that no one knows I left. I'll be back before I have to wake Bofur."

"Wait!" Linnor hurried after the hobbit, who had taken off down a side corridor. "Bilbo! Where are you going?"

"Linnor, please." They were at the edge of the balcony on top of the wall. Linnor watched as Bilbo took out a woven twist of rope and toed it to one of the pillars on the side. "I have to meet with Bard and Thranduil. I cannot let Thorin cast everyone into war and darkness over his greed."

Linnor gaped at him. She watched as Bilbo finished tying the final knot and softly, with no small amount of caution, he tossed the other end off the balcony. Linnor leaned over and watched as it fell unnaturally gracefully, unwinding, and then just gently kissed the rocks at the bottom.

"I'm coming with you." Linnor whirled and stared defiantly at Bilbo, who already had one leg swung over and was gripping the rope for dear life. The hobbit blinked in astonishment.

"Linnor, no! You can't. If they notice you're gone-"

"The same will happen if they notice you've gone missing. Besides, they'll think I've locked myself in Frerin or Dis's room. They'll leave me alone for a while. Bilbo, I've followed my heart into the fire, and I've gotten burned, broken, and put back together again so many time I've lost count. You have to talk to Bard and Thranduil, fine. I won't ask why. But there's somebody down there I have to talk to as well. Midnight is still a good four to five hours off. I will meet you here again before you pull the rope up."

Linnor watched as Bilbo took her pleas to heart. Nothing was going to keep her down, especially a hobbit. Especially if he would try to prevent her from seeing her love.

"We're setting everything free. You know that right?" Bilbo asked quietly. "It can't be like this…this wasteland of war. Someone has to set it all free. And Thorin certainly is in no position. You know that right?"

"I know." Linnor nodded sadly. Bilbo pressed his lips together, seemingly gathering the rest of his beaten courage, and slowly, he started to rappel down the side of the smooth wall. Linnor waited until he was about halfway down before she swung a leg over the side and began her descent.

"I know."


	56. Chapter 56: As Long As You're Mine

**A/N: Half day at school and you know what that means: UPDATE! I have a feeling that we'll be reaching the end of this story by the summer, which is a crazy thought. But let's keep going and see where this takes us.**

 **Thanks to those who have left reviews and comments so far. It always means so much to me that you guys are reading and letting me know what you think. I'm so happy you like my writing.**

 **The songs below are:**

Lucky by Jason Mraz

Falling Slowly from Once

Brand New by Ben Rector

A Million Miles Away from Aladdin

A Heart Full of Love from Les Miserables

In My Life from Les Miserables

A Whole New World from Aladdin

As Long As Your Mine from Wicked

Bright by Echosmith

 **Can you sense the theme? Guess what's coming! If you said Legolas, you are correct.**

 **WARNING: While there is nothing explicit, there is some suggestive writing coming later in this chapter. Again, nothing major since I'm not fully comfortable defiling my characters, but still, I had to!**

 **I do not own the Hobbit characters, places, etc. I do not own any of the songs above. Thanks to all of you, and please enjoy and review!**

* * *

Linnor slowly tiptoed her way over crumbling ruins of debris and mountain, her eyes scanning the grey-clad figures for one in particular. She and Bilbo had quickly dropped from their rope ladder, still dangling in the light wind against the rock walled gate. She had followed the hobbit to where the Men and Elves had made their encampment, on the edge of the city of Dale. It was very late, so many of the surviving villagers were sleeping restlessly, huddled around small withering fires. Linnor thought she saw Sigrid, Bain and Tilda in the alcove of a desiccated home, but she moved on quickly before they noticed.

She had to find Legolas. She was certain that it was him who had ridden down the valley. He was here, among the Men and Elves, no doubt wondering what had become of her so far since they last spoke at the shore of Laketown. Linnor had this strong, overwhelming urge to find him and take hold of him and have him take ahold of her. It had to be tonight, as she had the same feeling that by tomorrow, things would be far from okay.

" _Does he know I'm alive?_

 _Do I know if he's real?_

 _Does he see what I see,_

 _Does he feel what I feel?"_

Linnor whispered to herself, her teeth anxiously biting her bottom lip. She barely felt the sting of pain as she broke the skin, barely felt the splash of blood on her lips and chin. She didn't see him. He wasn't here.

"Hold on." Bilbo spoke softly, his arm coming out to stop her, breaking her from her thoughts.

Bilbo had led her to a large tent made up of dark red and gold, clearly of Elfish make and importance. Linnor could hear voices inside, all male and low. One voice spoke up slightly, and Linnor felt a prickle of recognition, but she couldn't quite place-

Suddenly, the flap to the tent lifted away, sending shafts of brighter light out onto the grey rocks and illuminating the two trespassers. Linnor froze, her eyes blinking rapidly in the sudden blaze. In her moment of blindness, she heard a small gasp, and suddenly, Bilbo was no longer by her side and gentle, yet firm, hands had grasperd her arms and she was being dragged away into the shadows.

As soon as her captor had moved them far enough away from any possible eavesdroppers, he turned her around, and Linnor's heart fluttered erratically.

"Legolas."

"Linnor."

It was as if they were paused, his hands on her upper arms, her hands curled to her chest, both their eyes focused on each other's faces searching for…. something. And then, like the crash of a wave, they seemed to leap at each other. Linnor's arms circled around his next, as his swung under her arms to wrap around her waist and drag her body to his. Linnor buried her face into the crook of his neck, her eyes squeezed shut. Distantly, she heard what sounded like a shriek, and it took her a moment to realized that she had made that sound; without realizing it, she had begun to shiver and sob. Legolas's arms were like warm iron, holding her firmly to his chest, his face in her hair, the hush of his voice soothing her ragged breathing.

"Linnor….my Linnor, I am here. I am here now. Look now, for it isn't a dream. It's not a dream after all, Linnor."

Slowly, Linnor's panicky onset subsided and she leaned back slightly, not daring to release her love quite yet. Her brown eyes met his ice blue ones, though they were warm and fluid now, like the waterfall in Imladris in the middle of summer.

"It is you. I knew it. My heart knew it. And I….I had to see you. I had to see you once more, Legolas. Before-before-"

"Before there is war." Legolas nodded gravely. "Yes. It is far bigger than any of us are prepared for. I have just spoken with my father, Bard, and Gandalf about the situation at hand. By my calculations, an army of orcs and other bred-spawn of the dark lands will be here in less than two days. There are thousands more."

Linnor sucked in a sharp breath. She thought of Thorin and her family in the mountain. They were not equipped to withstand the forces of the darker lands. She wasn't sure they were equipped to withstand the forces of Men and Elves right outside their gate. This was a nightmare leaking into the waking world. She felt her body shiver and tried to repress it.

"Come here." Legolas let her go, instead clasping her hand and leading her to a smaller tent off to the side. It was simply a canopy over the hard ground, with a small roll out, a few blankets and a light. "My father had one of the soldiers give me his private quarters for the night. It's not much, but we are out from the open, and it's warm."

It was. There seemed to be some retaining heat within the thin walls of the tent, and suddenly Linnor felt very close to Legolas, and she blushed, suddenly awkward.

"You must feel trapped inside those walls." Legolas spoke up after a moment. Linnor noticed that he had sat down, a little ways away from her. Slowly, she bent down and settled across from him. "The walls of Erebor are strong, but they are as much a prison for the people inside as they are a ward against the ones outside."

"It seems like I'm always a prisoner in one place or another." Linnor spoke bitterly. "I've spent nearly every moment of my life as someone's prisoner. All I've gotten is a glimpse of new horizons to pursue, a whole new world out there that I never knew. There are a hundred thousand things to see, yet I'm stuck admiring the same things day after day."

"Have you ever imagined what it would be like to take off, and never look back? Escape as evening falls to go see the rest of the world?" Legolas asked, his head tilting.

"Only every hour of everyday." Linnor laughed despite herself. "But I could never go too far. I tried that, and look where it got me? Running right on back. One day, I'll be a million miles away, feeling free instead of guilty, and I can explore and ride and sail and…."

Linnor turned her head to look at her elf and her words trailed off. The way he was looking at her was filled with so much emotion, so much longing that it made her feel as if she were burning. Her skin prickled and her mouth dry. She wetted her lips with her tongue, and she saw as Legolas's eyes narrowed, his own lips parting. Linnor's heart thumped loudly in her ears and she sat straighter.

It happened in a split second. In the first, they were sitting across from each other. In the second, suddenly, she was on his lap, his hands on either side of her face, her hands tangled in his hair, and their lips crashing violently against each other.

Linnor felt as if her blood was singing in her veins. The feeling of his soft lips on hers was something she had nearly forgotten. Her heart was flitting in her chest, her breathing coming out in gasps, her eyes closed. Every kiss, every grasping touch on her body was like igniting another flame, setting her whole body ablaze with warmth she had never experienced in life before.

Legolas's hands had moved from her face and now were gently trailing down her body, his fingers timidly reaching for the edge of the fabric of her clothing. As his fingers brushed against the skin of her stomach, Linnor jolted back, her eyes hazy with desire, lips swollen from kissing. Legolas's hands paused their movements, his eyes dazed as well, but with a small bit of confusion.

"Linnor…?"

Linnor breathed heavily for a moment, her eyes scanning his. Her hands came up to his face and trailed down his pale porcelain cheeks.

" _Kiss me too fiercely_

 _Hold me too tight_

 _I need help believing_

 _You're with me tonight_

 _My wildest dreamings_

 _Could not foresee_

 _Lying beside you_

 _With you wanting me_

 _And just for this moment_

 _As long as you're mine I've lost all resistance_

 _And crossed some borderline_

 _And if it turns out_

 _It's over too fast_

 _I'll make every last moment last_

 _As long as you're mine"_

Her words had the desired effect and with a barely audible moan, Legolas's body lurched forward in a skilled roll, and suddenly, Linnor found herself on her back, looking up at her lover, the elf's face open and vulnerable with emotion.

"Did you mean that?" he whispered, and somehow his voice sent escatic shivers down her spine and Linnor breathlessly nodded.

" _Just for this moment_

 _As long as you're mine_

 _Come be how you want to_

 _And see how bright we shine_

 _Borrow the moonlight_

 _Until it is through_

 _And know I'll be here holding you_

 _As long as you're mine"_

His lips were back on hers, and Linnor wrapped her arms around his next holding him close. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, causing her to gasp and he slipped his tongue in, gliding it along her teeth and the roof of her mouth. Linnor moaned. She had no idea she could feel this way, with this burning passion, this need for somebody. She tipped he head back, leaving her neck vulnerable almost subconsciously.

Legolas slowly moved his mouth from hers, his lips now attacking her jawline, then her neck, her pulse point, and towards her chest. This time, when his fingers reached for the edge of the fabric, when his fingers brushed across her bare skin, Linnor simply shuddered in expected pleasure and encouraged him to continue.

* * *

Linnor lay with her head on Legolas's chest, their breathing deep and even. She had been certain that hours had passed, but in fact, it was only an hour until midnight, when she had to meet Bilbo at the wall again.

"Linnor?"

Legolas's voice was no louder than a hum, and Linnor responded in kind.

"I wish for you to know that this….that I…."

"I know Legolas." Linnor murmured against his skin. "I've given you my heart also." She could feel the warmth of his flush against her lips and she smiled.

"Really?" his awe and disbelief evident in his voice. Without turning up to look at him, Linnor nodded and sang,

" _You make me sing_

 _Ooh, la la la._

 _You make me go_

 _Ooh Ooh_

 _I'm in love, love"_

She rolled gently to the side, finally looking at her lover. She smiled lazily, a smile he returned no less bright.

"Legolas, you make me feel like I can fly and I never think of touching the ground. With you, every second is like a heartbeat skip or the open page of a book. It's exciting and brand new and I feel new. You've had my heart from the moment you saved me in Mirkwood."

" _Falling slowly_

 _sing your melody_

 _I'll sing along_

 _Along"_

Linnor's smile got wider at his words. Legolas wasn't one for a lot of musical expression. While all elves contained that inborn ability, most chose to express it in other ways. When he sang to her, however, it was like it was the only music born to Middle Earth.

* * *

Linnor stood outside the tent, her hands held between both of Legolas's. Neither one of them knew what to say to each other. They had spent the night together, given themselves over to emotions and love, and now, as midnight came, Linnor realized that it was possible that they would never see each other again. Was this what it was like for her parents?

"Linnor, promise me."

"I know. I'll stay safe. I'll come back to you. "

"No." A vague smile flitted on his face. "I mean, yes, but that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say to keep me in your heart. Always, no matter what happens. I hope the thought of me will make things easier as things get…harder."

Linnor reached up to cup his cheek, and he pressed into her hand, giving it a soft nuzzle.

"My sweet Legolas. How did I get so lucky to fall in love with you? I've been lucky to have been where I have been, and in the end, I'll be lucky to come home again to you."

Gently, she reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. This kiss was salty with their mingled tears, and sweet with the promise of another day together.

"Every time we say goodbye, I wish we had one more kiss." Legolas said, his breath barely wisping against her lips.

"I love you." Linnor held the tremble back in her voice, and before she could change her mind, she quickly turned away and set off back to where she said she'd meet Bilbo. She had almost made it back to the tent where she and him had been separated.

"Linnor?"

Linnor stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before her.

"Mother?"


	57. Chapter 57: A Gift

**A/N: Ooh, her mother has returned! Things are building up, and I honestly have no clear idea with how this will end. It could go a hundred different directions. But for now, here is another, long overdue meeting between Ciranel and Linnor.**

 **The songs below are:**

Don't You Worry About A Thing from Sing

Shooting Star by Owl City

A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton

Once Upon a December from Anastasia

I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserable

I Remember from Evening Primrose

City of the Dead by Eurielle

 **I don't own any of those songs. I hope you guys look at them and check them out, though, because they are really good. I also don't own The Hobbit, which everyone should watch because it's epic.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

"Mother?"

Linnor couldn't believe her eyes. It was, without a doubt, Ciranel, but she was no longer the gentle Imladris handmaiden Linnor had thought she had known, nor was she exactly as she had last seen her, on the banks of the Laketown shores.

The elf woman before her was dressed in shining silver-blue armor, with flashes of gold along the edges and the seams of her chainmail, which Linnor recognized as a thin filament of _mithril._ It was incredibly rare, yet her mother adorned it as if it was nothing more than another part of her. Her hair was tied back into thick, braided tendrils, which gave her face a stonier look, her eyes darker. If Linnor was honest, her mother looked every bit the warrior Linnor wanted to be.

"Linnor…what are you doing out here?" Ciranel's icy look melted away, and suddenly everything was far less hard and far more gentle, and Linnor was reminded again of when her mother had been her friend.

"I could ask the same to you." Linnor replied shortly, her initial shock at seeing her mother wearing off quickly. "I had something of great importance I needed to do. But I can't see what your purpose here is. Last we met, you said you were returning to Lord Elrond's side."

She could see that her cold words stung Ciranel, if only a little, and she felt a small pang of guilt. She remembered her father's journal, written with so much love for her and her mother. But she still didn't know if they had meant as much to Ciranel.

"Sweetheart…" Ciranel spoke slowly, as if expecting some volatile response, but Linnor simply waited. "Everything is so wrong. With us, with this war, with…with how it all has turned out. Believe me, I don't expect you to forgive me for lying, but that was never my intention. I had to make decisions to keep you safe. But you must know, no matter what you say, no matter what you do or where you go, I would walk more than a thousand miles to see you. To hold you. My daughter."

Linnor was once again still with shock. Whatever she had been expecting to hear from her mother, it had not been that. Now, they stood looking at each other apprehensively, each waiting for the other to say something, anything. As the silence stretched on, Linnor sighed, knowing that her mother was waiting for her to speak now.

"I found my father's journal. And the letters you wrote to him. He kept them all."

That was not what she had meant to say, and Linnor saw Ciranel's face pale in response. Linnor didn't know what was more shocking: the fact that she had said what she said or her mother's abrupt response to what she said.

"He…he kept them all?" her mother's voice was small and broken, like a child's, and Linnor suddenly couldn't swallow. Instead, she simply nodded.

"Did you read them?"

Linnor fought against the hard lump in her throat, pushing it back until it rested in the center of her chest like a hard shell around her heart.

"I read his journal. Not his letters. I wanted to know…I wanted to know…if-"

"If I had kept his." Ciranel had regained the strength in her voice, although she still looked slightly shaken. "Come with me, here, a moment. Please, Linnor."

She motioned to the nearest tent, a dark rich blood-red color. After a brief moment of hesitation, during which concern for Bilbo flashed through her mind, Linnor followed her mother into her private space. It was sparse, with only a bedroll and a dark cloak to occupy the space. Ciranel motioned for her to sit on the bedroll while she went and rummaged in her cloak.

"I never leave Imladris without a few essentials. This," she plucked at her _mithril_ chainmail, "was a gift from Frerin the last time he left. And of course, I always carry these with me, to remember."

Ciranel turned slowly, and Linnor had to blink away the sudden blurriness in her eyes with what she saw. In her mother's hands was a stack of letters, all held together with a strap of ribbon. Linnor could see the bleeding ink on the pages, a think burly scrawl she recognized from her father's journal.

"Are those…?" Linnor whispered, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.

"Frerin and I were together for the passing of the seasons. He and I corresponded, we met in secret. He came and stayed with me once Elrond found out, and throughout it all…he had no qualms about loving me. I have kept every single one of his letters. I have kept them with me since when autumn came that year…and he was gone." She took a breath, her eyes on her hands, her fingers idly tracing the old parchment. "I used to dream that one day, when things had settled, he would come to me and we could all live out our years together."

Linnor had no idea what to say. She had wanted to confront her mother about her father, had had this belief that she was the one to blame, but now…Linnor saw the pain in her mother's eyes and she knew that it had been real for her. And suddenly, Linnor felt more lost than ever before.

"Do you…remember any of him? At all?"

Ciranel smiled, still looking at the letters with some degree of sad nostalgia. Linnor tucked her knees underneath her, her hands pressed tightly together in her lap.

"The years have taken his picture from me. It's like I can remember pieces of the days, of the moments, we spent together. I remember sky, and it was blue as ink. At least, I think. And I remember the snow, soft as feathers, and sharp icy wind that bit and stung, yet it was warm in his arms, always. And there was the leaves, green and crisp spread out all around us. " Ciranel sighed, and looked at her daughter then. "I remember these days, or at least, I try. But as the years go by, they're a sort of haze."

Ciranel sighed again, closing her eyes. Linnor just sat, looking at her mother with new eyes. She wanted to ask her something, but there was another thought, just at the edge of her mind. It was like a memory, expect she didn't really remember. It was more like a feeling, of being safe and warm. And in her head, she saw images, small colorful pictures, and there were bells and the hooves of horses. Linnor closed her eyes and concentrated. She heard a laugh, deep in her mind, that was low and hoarse and pleasant. She heard a higher voice, a familiar voice, and music. She saw shapes…carved wood, in the shape of animals, hanging above her like magic, like they were dancing.

" _Dancing bears, painted wings_

 _Things I almost remember_

 _And a song someone sings_

 _Once upon a winter"_

Linnor opened her eyes to meet the watery ones of her mothers. Ciranel was looking at her in a kind of awe, and Linnor had that same overwhelming feeling again of losing something.

" _Someone holds me safe and warm_

 _Horses prance through a silver storm_

 _Figures dancing gracefully_

 _Across my memory."_

Linno felt a hand on her arm, and she noticed with a start that her mother was very close to her.

" _Far away, long ago"_

Ciranel sang to her now, very softly.

" _Glowing dim as an ember_

 _Things my heart used to know_

 _Things it years to remember_

 _And a song someone sings_

 _Once upon a winter"_

Linnor realized too late that tears were running down her cheeks. With a startling clarity, Linnor jerked away from her mother, hastily wiping her eyes.

"You never told me why you're here exactly." Linnor cleared her throat awkwardly, avoiding her mother's sad gaze. There was a moment of tense silence before she even answered, and once again, her voice was cool and emotionless.

"I've been having…well, visions lately. I had been going back to Imladris when I had met with King Thranduil. His soldiers, along with a few from Imladris were coming here to discuss rightful payment from Thorin. Something about desired objects once given to Thror as homage. When I heard that they were going, I requested to come along with them instead of returning to Imladris."

"Wait, did you say you've been having visions? Of what?" Linnor interrupted.

Ciranel's face became closed, her eyes drawn and dark.

'They are not pleasant. As you know, many of the Fair Folk have dreams and premonitions of things that are to come, that may come, that have come. I'm scared of what's inside my head. Coming here….I felt as if I were about to enter the City of the Dead. I feel that this war is coming, that it will be bigger and bloodier than anything that has come yet. I feel it burning in my veins."

Suddenly, in a whirl, before she had any time to react, Ciranel grabbed out for her daughter, clutching her upper arms very tightly. Linnor cried out in surprise, her eyes wide with a sudden, irrational fear.

"Linnor listen to me, and listen carefully. You were never supposed to be here, but now that you are, you might just change it all. Tomorrow, when the sun goes down and the last rays of light burn out, then it is time for you to shine. It will be the darkest night, and you will have to fill it with a brilliant light brighter than the shooting stars over Imladris in high summer. Do you hear me?"

Slowly, and gently, Linnor rested her hands on Ciranel's shoulders.

"Don't worry about a thing. Don't worry about me, Mother. I'll be standing on the side of it all when it's over. Okay? Do you hear me? Don't worry. It will all work out."

The was a quick ruffle of fabric, and the flap to the tent opened. Linnor saw a mop of curly hair whip into view, and Linnor barely repressed her laughter as she caught sight of Bilbo's frantic face.

"Finally! I've been searching all over for you, Linnor. Believe me, I nearly was attacked by several of the guards here. We need to leave. It's almost midnight. If they've already noticed-"

"Right. Coming." Linnor nodded, and Bilbo, after a moment, ducked back out.

Ciranel and Linnor released each other and stood. Linnor had no idea what was left to say. She cleared her throat, her eyes downcast. After another brief, awkward pause, Linnor made her way around her mother and to where Bilbo waited.

"Wait."

Linnor turned back to her mother. Ciranel was biting her lip, a small look of indecision crossing her face. But after a moment, her features cleared and she smiled softly.

"I want you to take these." She held out Frerin's letters.

"You…" Linnor couldn't believe it, after everything she had heard. "You want me to take the letters? But you said-"

"I've read them more times than I can ever count. I knew him. You never have. Take them. I want you to have them, Linnor. Read his letters and mine together. Hopefully things become a little clearer."

Gently, Linnor reached out and took the large stack of letters from her hand, and tucked them to her chest. The bundle was comforting, thick and worn. She could smell the faint charcoal, the aged paper, and a sweeter, saltier scent. Tears.

"Thank you." Linnor whispered, her eyes meeting her mother's once more. There was nothing more to be said, so Linnor turned away quickly and exited the dark tent.

Bilbo was waiting a few feet away, shifting nervously. He visibly relaxed slightl when he caught sight of Linnor. Quickly, Linnor tucked the letters into a pocket of her gear. She didn't want to answer any question about them, not now. She wanted to hold onto them for just a while longer. Linnr was dying to go and open the first few letters, just to start.

"Come on. We have to hurry."

Linnor raced after Bilbo, knowing that while she was facing forward, she was leaving something far more desperate behind her. As they reached the wall, with the tight rope still hanging there gently, Bilbo grabbed hold and started off. Linnor turned once more to look at the flickering lights of Dale, where her mother was, and where her one love sat and stared back to her.


	58. Chapter 58: Family

**A/N: And…..update! Things are getting hectic, both in my life and in this story. I've almost reached 100 followers, and I want to say thank you to everybody who has supported this story from the get-go. I love you all!**

 **The songs below are:**

Say Something by A Great Big World

One Day More from Les Miserables

Wild and Free by A Rocket To The Moon

Piece by Piece by Carrie Underwood

Rhythm of Love by Plain White T's

 **Please continue to leave reviews and comments and let me know what you're thinking. I appreciate them, and I read every single one that comes through, so please don't be shy!**

* * *

Linnor felt like she couldn't breathe. Her chest was so tight; it took every ounce of her being not to tear the gear off her body into shreds in an effort to relieve the mounting pressure. It was suffocating her, slowly, but there was no way for her to save herself without alerting the others of her mounding panic. As it was, they were already looking at her strangely.

She and Bilbo had gotten back safely, and as it turns out, no one had noticed their absence. Linnor had said a soft goodnight and good luck to Bilbo as she tiptoed back to the safety of her room, the bundle of letters a sense of heat from where they were hidden in the pocket of her gear. A part of her had been so eager to tear into them right away, to read her mother's and her fathers letters together in succession, to understand them now. But she hadn't. Instead, she had put them safely together, away from her itching fingers, and she had fallen asleep dreaming of ice blue eyes and pale hair.

It was early morning now, and Linnor was waiting for the other boot to drop. She knew it was only a matter of time before Bard and Thranduil marched on the gates with their new leverage, and then they two would be caught. Linnor stood with the others of the company, milling about the central hall of the city. There was a feeling of rising tension in the air, and it was building fast.

"This is it, isn't it?" Ori whispered from his huddled place beside her. "This is the day before the storm."

"A war is coming, Ori." Linnor sighed back, her tone steely. "It could be today, or tomorrow, but it is arriving on us fast. We should be preparing for it, not starting a pointless battle with our only allies."

"This war is not just about the filth of the Earth." Balin had wandered over to where they were talking, and Linnor noticed that it was very quiet. Everyone was listening. "It's as much a war for freedom as it is for power."

"But for who? Don't you see that it's like that for everybody out there?" Linnor shot back. She had no idea where her vehemence was coming from, but it was strong and suddenly she was disgusted at the whole lot of them, herself included. "This is more than an uprising against corruption. Blood will run, Balin, into the lake and beyond. We are about to discover what Mahal has in store for us all, and it is not pleasant in the making."

It was startlingly silent when she finished, and that was when the suffocation had begun. Her breathing was hard in her chest, and she felt flushed. Tears of anger and anguish threatened to spill down her cheeks, and the sheer force of her own emotions shocked her. She struggled to get a grip on herself.

"Linnor."

It was Thorin's voice, however, that succeeded. There he stood, at the top of the staircase into the higher level of Erebor, looking down on them all. His cloak was wrapped thickly around his shoulders, the ironwork crown laid deeply on his brow.

"Come. Walk with me."

This did nothing to ease her taught chest, but it served to steel her nerves. Nodding, Linnor quickly went to follow her uncle, leaving her family and friends below in a tense state of confusion. She and Thorin walked aimlessly for several minutes, the only sound the soft clap of their boots on the solid stone. They strolled down corridors lined with gold streaks and more parchment sketches of old kings and queens Linnor didn't recognize.

"My grandfather, Thror." Thorin spoke at last, his words directed at a tapestry they were passing. It was the depiction of a mighty dwarf king, his beard long and grey, and the same ironwork crown on his brow. His eyes were like black jewels that seemed to glitter, even on the cloth. "He died alongside your father, and Fili and Kili's, at the Battle of Moria."

"This," Thorin moved to the next tapestry, "is my father, Thrain." The dwarf on this tapestry looked nothing like Thorin, although, as Linnor peered closer, she could see similarities in the way his posture called into mind that of pride and power, his face set in a stern glare, though it was possible a smile was creeping out at the edge of his stenciled lips.

"And, finally-" Thorin had again moved down to another tapesty and Linnor hurried after him. She halted sharper than she meant when she saw what he was showing her next.

"Myself, here. And my brother and sister, Frerin and Dis."

The three drawings were strange to look at. Linnor knew it was of Thorin, and her father and her aunt, and she could see the detail the artist had put into portaying their royal life onto the honored tapestry. But at the same time-

"Kili looks just like you." Linnor blurted, her words surprising even herself. Thorin blinked in surprise, but slowly, a warm smile graced his cold features.

"I suppose. I always thought he was the image of Frerin, though now, seeing you, I realize he was far from it."

"He's more like you than Frerin." Linnor said firmly, a smile of her own peeking through her serious demeanor. "Sure, he's a little more…wild and free, but he looks almost exactly like you. There's a sort of…sparkle to both of your eyes in the heat of battle, and you both certainly are stubborn, refusing to listen to more sensible folk, such as myself on several occasions."

Thorin let out a barking laugh that sent Linnor grinning ear to ear. Just from that, her whole body relaxed and she could breathe again. She had missed this Thorin terribly.

"It's not just you and Kili." Linnor continued. "I know you've told me I look like Frerin, and I've come to see that as well. And Fili…well, I suppose he looks more like his own father, but I can see that he looks like his mother here, too."

"Ah, yes. Fili looks so close to his own father, as dwarfish children tend to. But I see how he and Dis would share much as well, seeing as they both basically had to reign in Kili constantly." Thorin chuckled. "I remember that Kili was always such a dreamer, and more than once, Fili would be the echo of their mother, telling his little brother to quit fooling around. It seemed to be his job, especially as they got older and Kili got a little more…. adventurous."

Linnor laughed, imagining her two rowdy cousins as children, Fili always after his little brother, trying to civilize him. Her laughs subsided as her thoughts turned to Dis, their mother, waiting for her two sons to return to her, for her brother to come back, and who had no idea of the niece she had gained. It was a sobering thought, and one that made her tears of mirth subside.

She had wanted to meet her aunt since she had learned of her true heritage. But as the war drew closer, if she died in the outcome…she would never be able to.

"What is she like? Dis?" Linnor asked quietly, avoiding her uncle's coal black gaze.

"My little sister?" Thorin hummed in thought, the low bass note reverberating on the walls and seemingly through her bones. "She is tough as nails, she is. A force to be reckoned with on any day, and she can fight as well as any male. But she is gentle with the ones she loves…provided we haven't done her any wrong. Dis was nothing if not vengeful against her own enemies. It was what made her strong. She could carry the weight of her people with her head held high. And she never hesitated to tell somebody off, especially if it was me." He laughed again. "She's got blue eyes, deep like the sea, just like our mother, and her anger rises just like the tide: slow, then all at once with a crashing terror. She is the fiercest princess of Erebor." Thorin's voice had taken on a cold, prideful tone that sent a new wave of chills into Linnor. The warmth and love with which he had spoken about his family now was gone, and all that was left was the cold stone that was this new King Under the Mountain.

"Thorin…" Linnor reached up to touch her uncle's shoulder, but in an instant he whirled around, away from her, and now she was caught staring into his fathomless eyes.

He said nothing, only stared at her with a piercing look that made her blood run cold and freeze in her veins, and she felt for a moment that she had turned to stone. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was wrong, that this wasn't how it had been, or how it ever should be. Linnor wasn't sure how long it was that they stood there like that, but it was slowly wearing her down. Slowly, her blood began to boil again, and this time, as she thawed, so did her anger, until finally, she exploded.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

She didn't mean to scream it, but suddenly she had snapped and the words had come right into Thorin's stony face. He blinked again and took a step back, and Linnor took her chance to charge forward.

'Thorin….please. I'm worried about you. Fili and Kili, Bilbo, Dwalin….they all are worried. I'm sure Dis would be too if she was here."

"You don't know her. Don't speak of her as if you do." Thorin cut it.

"You're right, I don't know her. But I want you, and you were telling me about her before you just-just shut down. That was the most I've seen you act like your old self since we've come back here, Thorin. And suddenly you're…you're like the mountain. Cold and cruel and hard."

"Linnor, watch your tongue now. I will not tolerate much more of your insubordination-"

"Tolerate? You barely acknowledge it! Unless it's an insult against you." Linnor felt the tears of utter frustration leak out. "I'm begging you, Thorin, to listen to me. I'm swallowing my pride and asking you to please snap out of it. We need you, but not like this. And every minute that passes, we start to give up hope."

"I don't have time for this." Thorin snarled.

"If you don't listen to me now, you will lose everything." Linnor threatened, her voice cracking near the end.

"I have nothing to lose. Everything and everyone is a means to an end if it means I can claim my rightful place as I once would have." Thorin's eyes were bottomless, the pitch blackness of it threatening to overwhelm her.

"Is that all your family is to you? Piece by piece, you collect and than abandon when it doesn't go with your almighty plans?" Linnor spat. "There was a time when I would have thought that impossible. I saw the love you had for your nephews, for your brother and sister, for your friends, and for me. But now, it seems, that that love has to be earned by those loyal enough to deserve it. Is that right?"

Thorin was growing angrier by the second, and Linnor knew she was treading in dangerous waters now. She was so close to breaking through his frozen shell. All she needed was one final push to throw him over the edge-

The air was shattered by the sound of a blazing horn. It came once, and then a second time. By the time the third horn sounded, Thorin was already moving away from her, down the hallway and up the far staircase to where the top of the wall was positioned.

 _This is it._ Linnor thought as she raced after her uncle. _This is it. If this doesn't push Thorin to the edge…_

Linnor reached the top of the wall and stopped. Everyone was up there already, looking down at the army of Men and Elves gathered at the foot of the gate, all looking up at them expectantly. Bard glanced her, then at Bilbo, and his hand immediately went to his side, where the Arkenstone was hidden. Linnor swallowed and steeled herself for what was coming.

 _If this doesn't push Thorin to the edge, nothing will._


	59. Chapter 59: Somebody to Die For

**A/N: Another update so soon? I'm spoiling you guys. Seriously. But I'm loving the responses I'm getting for all of my stories lately, and I think you guys deserve to be rewarded with another chapter.**

 **So this takes place after Thorin threw Bilbo out. I felt like I couldn't do that scene justice, so instead I time-skipped to when the company is waiting inside the city. So I apologize for anyone who was looking forward to that specific scene.**

 **This is a really long chapter, so I'm sorry for that too.**

 **The songs (lyrics) below are:**

No Matter Where You Are by Us

Little Do You Know by Alex and Sierra

Ma Belle Evangeline from Princess and the Frog

My Imagination by John Legend

Somebody To Die For by Hurts

Waka Waka by Shakira

Bring Me Home by Youngblood Hawke

Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

You Found Me by The Fray

Flightless Bird by American Mouth

 **This is Chapter 59, guys. We are almost at 60 chapters now, and I honestly would never have made it this far without all of your support, so thank all of you. I appreciate every favorite, every follower, and every comment left here.**

 **Please continue to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Thorin paced anxiously, his footsteps carving the familiar paths among the glorious piles of treasured gold. Even from this far down, he could hear the sounds of te war that raged right outside their front door. Dain had come to their aid with his people, as he had promised years ago, and he had left them to fight the battle that was his duty as King to fight. Thorin was disgusted with himself, but that disgust was quickly buried by panic.

He heard the loud roars of the beasts the orcs had enslaved to fight, the mountain trolls and giants, the Wargs and other such monstrosities. He heard the yells of Men, the clash of hammer and sword, the twang of the Elven bows, and the screams of the women and children. They were being slaughtered.

Thorin moaned and clutched at his head where his crown lay. It was his. _It was his._ The mountain, the city, the gold….all of it was his. Why should he fight with them? With the traitors and manipulators that were trying to steal his heritage from his very fingers? He is King Under The Mountain. It is their duty to protect him, to pay homage to him, the mightiest dwarven King ever to rule in the Durin line. He was a descendant from the greatest himself, one of the very last. He needed to live. His family needed to remain here, where it was safe. It was the smartest choice.

 _It is the coward's choice._

Thorin closed his eyes in pain. His deceased brother's voice seemed to echo in the cavernous room, shocking his very core and chilling him underneath his heavy cloak.

"No." he moaned. "No. I will not send my kin to be slaughtered as you were."

 _Slaughtered? I fought for a better life for our family, Thorin. I fought for my family. I fought for the home of our people. I didn't sit and expect others to fight our battles for us like a spoiled child. I fought with them because that is our duty as descendants of Durin._

"I cannot leave. It's mine. They'll take it all."

 _You are diving too deep for coins, brother. You've gone blind in the few days you've regained our home. Can you not see that this is the same sickness that overtook our grandfather?_

"No…" Thorin clutched at the iron crown around his brow. The room started to spin, and Thorin stumbled, unbalanced.

 _You are like a flightless bird, Thorin. Trapped by your own design._

The room was spinning faster now, rocking side to side like furious waves, and Thorin fell to his knees, his hands over his ears to block out the wretched screaming. Everything seemed to echo around him, growing into maddening roars before dimming and then rising back again.

"Make it stop…"

 _Thorin, listen. Listen. They are dying out there. Their deaths are on you because you would rather have war than make amends to the people whose lives you have ruined. You are a coward._

"Stop…"

 _Coward._

"Frerin…. brother, please. Stop."

 _COWARD._

* * *

Linnor sat with her knees curled up to her chest. It seemed to be all she did, lately, was cry and try to comfort herself. The whole company, minus Thorin, were gathered behind the wall to the city, listening to the crying screams of the battle right on their doorstep. Linnor flinched as something let out a ferocious, guttural snarl followed by the pinging clash of swords and armor. Orcs called out in Black Speech, Elves yelled in their own tongue, and the Men shouted hoarse directions, but it was all swallowed in the ugly noise.

Linnor closed her eyes and tried not to imagine the carnage. She tried not to think of Sigrid or Bain or Tilda. She tried not to think of Bilbo and Gandalf and Ciranel. She tried not to think of Legolas.

"Mahal." Linnor gasped, raising her head to look at her ashen companions. "It's nothing but a bloodbath."

"That's war for you, lass." Gloin muttered from his place among the rocks. He was angrily sharpening his old axe against another blunt stone. Linnor wanted to make a comment, that it was useless to sharpen what wasn't going to be used, but she knew that it was more out of stress than anything else.

They were angry, all of them. Thorin had nearly killed Bilbo by tossing over the wall, only relenting slightly when Gandalf called to him. How in the world Gandalf had come to be there, Linnor wasn't sure. The wizard had good as abandoned them to their own devices all those months back at the very edges of Mirkwood. And now here he was, pleading for Thorin's leniency to let Bilbo climb down unharmed. In the moments before his decision, Thorin had looked utterly terrifying, and Linnor had found herself wondering if Thorin might actually go as far as to kill his friend.

But he had let him go, with noting more than a few words of disgust. Thorin had turned back to Bard and Thranduil, and as a raven flew overhead, Thorin had calmly declared war on the armies at his feet, though they vastly outnumbered them. And that was when the chaos had begun.

Now, here they all sat, waiting. She could see the mounting annoyance and fury on her friend's faces as they listened to the ongoing battle. They wanted to fight. Linnor may not have understood a whole lot of dwarven cultures and rights and all that went with being part of the Durin family, but she knew that just sitting on the sidelines was never something that was done. Kili's face was thunderous, and even Fili looked extremely upset.

"This is ridiculous." Kili finally broke the silence with a snarl, causing everyone's eyes to be drawn to where he sat, tense, near the very base of the wall.

"Kee,-"

"No, Fili. It is. It's degrading, it's infuriating, it's-it's-"

"Well, what do you propose we do about it? Go out there? We're sealed in, lad." Oin barked sourly. "Trapped like fish in barrels."

"So we go to Thorin, talk some sense into his head! The crown must be too tight around it if he's thinking that this is the best way for us to defend-"

"Watch your tongue, now, Kili." Balin cautioned, standing slowly. "Like it or not, he is still your uncle and your King. If he heard you, in his current state, there's no telling what he would do. Not to mention, Dwalin already tried talking to him. He's changed, son. Too much."

"Well-" Kili started, and then stopped. Linnor could see that he was struggling to come up with something, anything, that was a solid plan. After a moment or so, Balin's stern eyes softened with pity and he came to lay a hand on the young prince. Fili, too, moved to be closer with his brother, but Linnor stayed on her little patch of rubble.

"We can't just lay here." Kili said at last, but it was in a defeated sort of voice. "We can't just forget the world. We're Durins. We are the last stand for Erebor. We do everything, on our own, against all the odds."

They lapsed back into their own silence, the chaos outside dimming slightly to their ears. Linnor knew it was far too much to hope that it was ending already. It had hardly begun. She brought her eyes back to look at her breaking and broken company. Dori, Nori and Ori were the closest to her, Dori and Ori doing their best to comfort their youngest brother. Bifur stood with his arms crossed near the top of the rubble, leaning against the wall. Bofur and Bombur were side by side next to him, Bofur's face one of rare solemnity. Dwalin and Balin were further away now, near the edge of their group. Oin and Gloin were more centered, Fili and Kili having moved away a bit to talk in lower whispers. Linnor sighed and was about to retreat back into herself when she noticed Gloin fumbling with something shiny in his hands. It looked familiar, and she saw that it was the larger part of a locket. For a moment, she thought that he had found her necklace, the one with the picture of her father and mother and her hand when quickly to her neck, where she felt the solid chain. Slowly, she stood and made her way gingerly to where the grouchy older dwarf sat.

"What it is?" she asked softly.

Gloin seemed startled, both at her approach and her question. He fumbled with the fob for a few minutes more before he gingerly handed it off to her, dstictliy avoiding eye contact, as if he were embarrassed.

"My wife, and my wee son. I left them back in the Blue Mountains, with the rest of our people."

Linnor opened the clasp to reveal two small-sketched portraits. The first one was clearly a dwarfish woman of thick stature, with light blond hair that curled and circled around her intricate bodice. The second was a young lad, no older than ten, if she had to try and guess.

"What are their names, Gloin?" Linnor asked softly, looking from the pictures to the quiet dwarf.

"Tha' there is Eva, and my son is Gimli, a raucous little dwarfling, he is." Gloin gave a huff of laughter. "Aye, I do miss them."

"What are they like?" Linnor didn't know why she was pushing this so much. Maybe it was because they all needed to take their mind off the battle, just for a moment, but it was also because that she had known this axe-wielder for months now, and this was the first she had ever heard of his wife and son.

"Gimli is just like his father, here. Elf hater and mighty axe master." Bofur snorted from behind them, and a few of the others let out low chuckles in fond memory of their friend's offspring.

"Eva," Gloin interrupted with a smirk over his shoulder, "now, she is a true lady. I can tell you, lass, that she lights up the sky. She's the daughter of one of our finer weaponry makers, a proud position indeed, which was far above my trade when I started, mind you. She was so far above me that I didn't ever expect her to take notice of an old horse-shoe stomper like myself."

"But she did." Linnor smiled. "And you won her heart."

"More like he collided into her during one of his errands for Master Clayton and knocked all of her market wares onto the ground." Oin called out, setting off another round of laughter at Gloin's expense. "He owed her family, what? Sixteen coins for the whole lot! Amad was furious!"

"Aye." Gloin sighed, but he had a more pleasant air about him as he spoke. "But Eva was kind. She kept coming round even after the debt was paid, and teased me mercilessly. We began a friendship, of sorts, and then a courtship, if you will. She's my queen, lassie."

Linnor sighed and smiled at the obviously love-struck dwarf. She wondered if this is what she would look like if she ever was able to talk to anyone about her and Legolas. She sat there with Gloin and Oin, laughing along with the others absentmindedly. There was a shuffle behind her and suddenly a warm, calloused hand tugged at her shoulder. Linnor turned around and gave a grim smile at her cousins.

"Hey. What's going on?" Linnor took in their drawn faces and moved to face them more directly.

"Linnor…" Fili started, and looked at his little brother, seemingly unsure of how to say what he had to. Kili nodded back, his face set.

"Linnor, I know- well, we know that even if we asked, you probably wouldn't stand back on the sidelines if it came to that we had to fight our way out of here."

"Absolutely not." Linnor shot both of her elder cousins a disapproving look. "I've trained, albeit only a little, and I know both of you have seen what I can do in a pinch."

"Yes, but this isn't a pinch." Fili exhaled sharply. "This is war. This is far more than anything you've experienced, -"

"Oh, I suppose you've seen your fair share of bloodshed, then, Fili? You're an expert in war?"

"No, that's not-"

"Both you and Kili are as new to this as I am. The only thing you've got on me is that you've been training for this your whole life. My life started only a few months ago. But if it comes down to taking on what's out there, then who's to say that I'd be safe watching from inside the city? I will not be locked away, _again._ If it comes to it, I will stand by you. Even if we fall."

Kili reached out and gripped her shoulder, and Fili did the same on her other side. Both of their faces were grim, but beneath it all, Linnor was relieved to see just a small shimmer of amusement.

"If it comes to it," Kili said softly, "I will stand by you. I won't let you fall."

"That goes for me as well." Fili nodded. "To the both of you. I've got to take care of the two of you. The messes you both make rival the war our uncle has seemingly caused."

Kili scoffed and pushed his brother halfheartedly. Linnor bit her lip to hold back her barking laugh at the two of them. There never was quite a pair like them. She hoped they made it out alright.

"Hey, two of you, stop." Linnor nudged them both with a slight chuckle. "I appreciate it. I really do. As long as you both understand that no matter where you are, I will be there. It's the very least that I deserve, after all I've done to get here."

"Indeed you do." Fili chuckled. He reached over and ruffled her hair, mussing the lose braid she had wrapped it up in. Linor swatted his hand away, sticking her tongue out childishly, making the three of them nearly burst into a fit of giggles. As I was, Kili descended into a fit of coughing and Fili had to slap him on the back a few times.

"Linnor?"

Linnor turned away from her cousins again and looked to where Dori and Nori sat. The two brothers were still huddled close to their youngest, Ori, who has his knees curled up as far as his armor would allow and was an ashen pale color. Her heart immediately went out to the second youngest member of the company. Out of all of them, Linnor included, Ori was the least suitable for any harsh type of battleground. As he had said many times, he was more of a knitter and a scribe than a fighter or a hero.

"Ori?" Linnor crept cautiously down to her frightened friend. "Are you alright?"

"How do you do it?" Ori's soft voice was muffled by metal mithril collar, but the question in his eyes was clear.

"How do I do what?"

"Block it all out." Ori motioned to the rampage outside. "You've said it before. This was never your life. You didn't grow up with the expectation to kill orcs and beasts. You weren't trained in weaponry and tactics. Yet you've flown on Eagles, escaped goblins and orcs and fire and a dragon and drowning and elves. How do you…"

"Not explode all at once?" Linnor smiled wryly. "Believe me, I have my moments."

"But how do you keep it all together?" Ori looked at her, and she saw that he was really struggling, and it wasn't just about this war right now. It was everything.

Linnor sighed, her hand reaching out to touch him, and then pulling back and instead running over her own tired face. They were all tired. This truly was the last straw, for all of them. For Middle Earth. She didn't know how much more she could possibly take before she had no choice anymore.

"Ori, the truth is…I don't keep it all together. I just keep it. It's all here, and here. " She pointed to her head, and then her chest. "You see, it's like you and your journals. My….imagination is my safe place. My head is where everything is contained, in the moment. When things get tough, when I am caught in so much pain and confusion, I know that there's a place where I'll be landing, far away from the place I'm standing. I escape to a place where I can hold onto it until it's bearable. It's like you and your sketches. You hold onto something, you keep it there on your pages to remember. You make the unbearable, bearable."

Ori stared at her for a long moment, his eyes becoming distant and then clear. Linnor saw him unravel a little and reach down next to him. He was strapped with a sword, as was everybody else except her, but beside him lay his old, wooden slingshot with the ties leather strap. Linnor gave him a crooked smile as he fingered the old weapon fondly.

"You're a good soldier, Ori." Linnor spoke quietly now, making sure that what she said next was only for Ori to hear. "You choose your battles. I know that the pressure is on, and you're feeling it. But just because you're on the front line with everyone watching doesn't mean that you are there alone. It isn't over. Not until Durin has had his say."

The youngest dwarf nodded in understanding and stood. Linnor rose with him, wary of how her words might have effected the company's sweetest member. The scribe's face had hardened with determination and no small amount of fear. It was good, she supposed. He would be ready then.

"Hey, Fili." She called over her eldest cousin from where he stood brooding once more. Surprise flickered over his features, but he quickly schooled them into a blank slate and met her off to the side away from the others.

"Linnor, is everything alright?"

Linnor resisted the urge to groan. It seemed that was every other sentence spoken today, and though it was with good reason, she didn't realize until now how annoying it actually was. Instead, she nodded.

"I need to ask a favor from you. "

"Of course. Whatever it is."

"I want you to deliver my body to Imladris. If I….should I happen to-"

"Wait what?" Fili no longer bothered to school his face into anything other than shock and horror. "Your body? If you should what? Die? Are you talking about what you want me to do if you die?"

"Please, Fili." Linnor asked softly. "Just hear me out."

"Linnor, you aren't going to die."

"You don't know that, Fili. None of us knows what's going to happen. I know I spoke differently before, but I just….on the chance that you make it through, and I….don't, I want you to please bring me home to Imladris and deliver me to my mother. Providing…." Linnor's voice caught.

"Linnor, please don't talk like that." Fili said, his eyes glassy. "Please don't ask me- why me?"

"Because you are the only one I can trust to follow through. You will accept my wishes. Kili and Thorin and the others would insist that Erebor is my home and burial place, but Imladris is where I belonged and where I used to be. It was home, and that is where I wish my body to be laid." Linnor stood very still, beseeching her cousin with her eyes. "Please, Fili."

"Why?" he whispered, and Linnor knew that he would do it, just because she asked.

"This is a war, Fili. Even before now, our lives weren't easy. You…you and Thorin and Kili and all of you…you found me surrounded…. surrounded by walls and guards and a life that was not the one I was meant to live. Granted, I had been waiting quite a long time."

"We were just a little late, then?" Fili rolled his eyes, but he smiled nonetheless.

Linnor reached out and laid her hand on her cousin's cheek. It was warm and his hair was rough where it brushed her fingers. She couldn't help but tug on one of the blond braids that were entwined into is unruly mane. Fili gave a snort and swatted at her hand. He opened his mouth, to say something she didn't know what, but suddenly there was a noise that startled them all.

It came from the opposite direction of where they were expecting. It didn't come from the wall, or anywhere beyond it. Instead it came from deep within the city, and as the all looked up and around, Linnor saw that the heart of the city was aglow a bright orange, as if the heart of Erebor was alive and pulsing. And in the center of that center was a figure, walking slowly and with purpose. At first, Linnor couldn't recognize him, for he was without the heavy cloak or the foolish crown, and instead in a green and silver tunic lined with mithril. But as he got closer, Linnor's heart caught in her chest as she recognized the one person she had missed most the past few days.

It was Thorin Oakenshield, as he was meant to be.

There was a flash of quick movement in the corner of her eye, and Linnor turned her head away from the inspiring awakening, so to speak, of Thorin and to the rest of her awe-struck companions. Well, all except for Kili. While the others looked more or less shocked and uncertain, Kili only looked furious. It was startlingly unnatural to see such raw anger on his normally carefree, nearly clean-shaven face.

"I will not hide," Kili snarled, stepping down from his spot near the wall and making his way to where Thorin had stopped, "behind a wall of stone while others fight our battles FOR US!" His voice reached a deafening yell as he came to a stop right at Thorin's feet.

* * *

Thorin watched as his youngest nephew came closer and closer, the anguish in his eyes apparent as he stopped only a few feet short of reaching him. Kili's soft eyes were torn with a wreck of emotions. Thorin kept his face blank, resisting the urge to comfort his distraught kin right away before he had a chance to finish. Kili had always been the more emotional of the two brothers.

"It is not in my blood, Thorin." Kili whispered, and Thorin dropped all pretense of detachment and he reached out to cup Kili's cheek, his calloused hand brushing over his smooth cheek.

"No, it is not." Thorin whispered back. "We are sons of Durin. And Durin's folk do not flee from a fight." Thorin brought their foreheads together, and he could feel the shuddering tension in his nephew.

"Thorin…" Kili sighed a big breath, eyes flashing open with a steely gaze. "In case….if we…."

"Do not think about it." Thorin said quietly. "Do not think of it, Kili. We will not fail. I will be there right beside you as I always have been. Little do you know how I love you, your brother, and your cousin, even in all of this mess. I want you to remember that Kili, no matter what happens. Until the sun dies."

Thorin released Kili and stepped around him, walking now towards the rest of his motionless company. Every one of their faces was wiped clean of all emotion, and Thorin felt a pang of guilt as he saw how much he had nearly destroyed them all.

"I know I have no right to ask this of any of you." Thorin started, then stopped. He didn't know exactly how to fix things now, not with so little time. "I've got nothing left to live for, and no reason yet to die. Out there, our kin need our help. They are being slaughtered. They need us. They need Erebor. They need Durin's heirs. Let's finished what we started all that time ago. Azog does not live past this day. And when I'm standing in the fire, I will look him in the eye. We will let those devils know that we are brave enough to die. There's no hell that they can show me deeper than my pride, I know that."

Thorin took a breath, suddenly more nervous than he had ever been before. More nervous than when his father took his in to see his new brother, or when Dis was born, or when his grandfather called him in to have a private chat. He hadn't been this nervous the first time they let Dis handle a broadsword, nor had he been this nervous the first time he held Fili and Kili in his arms and saw the future of Erebor looking back at him with sleepy new born eyes.

"Will you follow me one last time?"


	60. Chapter 60: Darkness Comes

**A/N: Guys, we have made it. We are just two chapters away from entering the ultimate heartbreaking, chaotic, destructive and epic part of The Hobbit Trilogy. Are you as excited as I am?**

 **Also: This story had just reached 100 followers! Thank you guys so much for the support and confidence you've given me to reach this goal. Wow!**

 **The songs below are:**

Battlefield by Jordan Sparks

When The Darkness Comes by Colbie Callait

To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra

 **I am still taking requests on whom to kill off in the final battle. If you have a preference, leave it in the reviews or PM me with the character(s) you chose. Anyone is fair game.**

 **Anyways, I don't own the Hobbit or the songs I listed up above. Only Linnor and Ciranel are my own characters.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

The war was still raging on behind the walls. Linnor could hear the terrifying roars of the mountain trolls, the vicious snarls of the wargs and the tumultuous gagging Black Speech of the Orcs and other dark creatures. Underneath it all, there were the calls of Men and Elves and the small army of dwarves that Dain had brought from the Iron Hills. It was overwhelming, and yet it seemed so far away from their little haven inside the city.

Except they wouldn't be safe for long. Linnor gave a wry smile at that thought. She was in the armory looking through the vast array of weapons and battle gear while the others worked on their surprise for the enemies outside. Thorin was right: they had waited long enough, and they would not run from their own war. But at the same time, their entrance into this epic fight had to rally their own allied armies against Azog and his monsters.

Linnr trailed her fingers gently over the long silver mesh of a section of chain mail hanging on a hook beside a full body armored gear standing as if in wait of a soldier worthy to put it on. The suit was silver with green-gold hues striped across the body in twisting chains. There was a large mighty broadsword standing beside it, gleaming brightly, with no hint of dust or rusting color.

"You know, I never meant to start a war." Thorin's low voice came from behind her, but Linnor didn't move from her spot. She knew that he was sorry for how he had treated her the last several days, and for how things have come to pass in the long run. But she wasn't angry. Linnor didn't think she had it in her anymore to by angry with anybody in her life. She thought of the unread letters upstairs in her father's room.

"I know, Uncle." She smiled, though with her back still to him, he couldn't possibly see. "But it had to be. Azog and his filth would have come here anyway, and I have a feeling Thranduil was already planning on inviting himself the minute we left Mirkwood behind in the barrels."

"If I had only swallowed my pride, then maybe…" Thorin sighed heavily and Linnor turned then to face him. He looked so much different. Truthfully, he had always looked as if the whole weight of Middle Earth was resting upon his shoulders, but this was somehow a different kind of burden. Regret. Fear. Anguish. All there plain to see on his face.

"No. Do not play that game, Thorin." Linnor smiled sadly at her uncle. "We are Durin's folk. And Durin's folk are not easy folk to get along with."

"Aye. We aren't, at that." Thorin let out a huff of laughter and finally, his eyes raised to meet hers. "That was meant for Dis, you know." He motioned to the shining armor she was standing in front of her. " When she was of age to finally come riding out with Frerin and myself. It was what she was looking forward to most in the world. Of course, that was before she met her husband and before she had her boys."

"I wish I could meet her." Linnor sighed, gazing back at the array of metal. "She sounds amazing."

"You will meet her, Linnor." Thorin came forward and rested his hand on her shoulder comfortably, the warm calloused palm giving her much needed assurance. "When this is all over, I will send for her and she will meet you and love you as dear as if you were her own daughter. You will love her."

"Of course she will. Everyone loves Amad." Linnor looked past her uncle to see her two grinning cousins peering into the armory. Fili and Kili were already dressed in full battle gear. Fili was wearing a darker bronze, his golden hair striking against the pitch color, while Kili had chosen silver, and likewise to his brother, it made his black hair striking against the bright metal. Thorin huffed a little and made a motion to his young nephews.

"You two. Help her get her armor here. I'm going to go check on the preparations. Meet downstairs in front of the gate as soon as she is set." Thorin barked, but there was a layer of gentle firmness to his orders. He turned back to Linnor, and she stared up at him in shock.

"Thorin, I'm not…. am I?"

"Linnor, you are a fierce fighter, despite being greatly untrained. Balin and Dwalin showed you some of the basics to survive, but I've seen you and I've seen the raw talent you possess. I know that leaving you here will only cause you to worry, not to mention leaving you vulnerable should any slip past our defensive positions. I need you out on the battlefield with us. You've earned the right as Durin. You're family is out there fighting. You should be beside us."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers and Linnor closed her eyes. She had wondered what this felt like, when Thorin had grasped Kili earlier. It was like being connected by mind, body and spirit. It was a connection, a sign of love and family that Linnor had never had until now. At last, Thorin pulled away and smiled, and then he was walking away, back into the city leaving Fili and Kili to help her prepare for battle.

"Are you ready for this, Linnor?" Fili asked, stepping forward and lifting the chain mail off the wall. He slipped it over her head and the weight settled against her chest and lower abdomen with an awkward sense of familiarity.

"I suppose as much as I'll ever be." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, this is my home right? I'm a part of this."

"Just because this is where your bloodline descends from doesn't automatically make it your home." Kili said, fastening the body suit against her chest and back. Linnor raised her eyebrows in surprise and Kili chuckled. "I'm not a complete knucklehead, much as my brother may tell you otherwise. Unlike him and Thorin and the rest of the company, I didn't grow up here in Erebor. I was born in Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains. That's where our mother is, now."

"But Erebor is still your home." Linnor argued, though she wasn't sure why she was pushing this. Maybe it was because, like Kili, she hadn't grown up here like her family. She had grown up across the world, in a prettier palace, a gentler place with a different side of her always in the forefront. That was the home she knew.

"There is a house built out of stone." Kili said after a pause. He was working on her arm guards now. "Wooden floors, walls, and window sills. There was a table and chairs, a fireplace with a big woven rug right in front of it. We had beads hanging everywhere, and Fee and I shared a room almost all our life. There was a garden right outside, with this big huge tree that grew right in the center, and behind it was this little valley leading to a little brook. I used to climb that tree all the time, sometimes for fun, and sometimes to get away from everyone when things were difficult." He stood and looked at her and his brother. "That is my home. This is our birthright, what we need to claim as our own in this world. But that place, where I grew up with you, Fili, and with Thorin and Amad….that's my home."

"Kee," Fili reached out and touched his brother's face gently. "Who knew that underneath all that unruly tangled mess there were actual thoughts."

"Shut up, you troll." Kili laughed and nudged his brother back fondly. Linnor couldn't help but grin at their lighthearted antics. Even during a time like this, they still reminded each other of what they had…and what they had to lose.

"Oh, you guys." Linnor sighed as they finished hooking her boots into place and Fili handed her the final piece of her armor: the broadsword. "I….I never thought that…" She shook her head and moved to the mirror on the opposite wall. She really didn't look like herself anymore, did she? But maybe this stranger was the person she always was, and only now they were being reintroduced after a long, long time apart. Once more, she thought of those letters upstairs, all the words unread. She hoped she might have a chance to read them at the end of it all.

"This wasn't the life you thought you'd have." Kili finished for her, coming to stand behind her. Fili, too, walked up close until they were all standing there, all in battle gear, and Linnor thought of the portraits of Thorin and Frerin and Dis and suddenly she felt as if time had gone in reverse, and somehow this was how things were once again.

"Do you ever wish you could go back to what it once was?" Fili asked. "Back to Rivendell and Faolan and the security of that life?"

"No." Linnor didn't even stop to think. She didn't have to. "Never knowing is so much worse. The world I knew is broken, anyways. I could never go back to that, not after all of this. There is no return, not to stay, at least. I owe Lord Elrond that much once things have settled."

"What about Legolas?"

Linnor looked sharply at Kili, and he looked calmly back, with a knowing kind of smile playing on his lips.

"I told you. I'm not dense. I saw how you two acted to each other, especially at the Laketown shore before we sailed off to the mountain. Do you wish you stayed with him? He's probably long gone, far from here."

 _If only you knew that he's out there. He's fighting. He's alive and he's waiting for me. At least I hope he is._ Linnor thought, but she couldn't say that. They didn't know that she snuck out with Bilbo, and that was a secret not worth telling.

"I have to believe that he's waiting, and that he knows I'm waiting. That the light will guide him home to me, wherever he is." Linnor said slowly, purposefully being vague and poetic in her phrasing so that they wouldn't guess. "When the darkness comes….it might have already come…..he knows. I know."

They stood there for a few more minutes, just looking at their reflections. Finally, it was Kili who moved, clapping both is kin on the shoulders, a wild look crossing his face and Linnor thought he looked absolutely ferocious and every bit a warrior of Durin.

"Come on. Let's join the fun."

Linnor grinned back, and Fili nodded, a twisted little smile playing on his lips. They turned from the mirror and marched out of the armory, and Linnor ran her fingers over the hilt of her new sword. This certainly wasn't the life she would ever have dreamed for herself. But it was the life that she loved. And she was going to fight for it – or die trying.


	61. Chapter 61: The Battle (Part One)

**A/N: And let the madness begin. This is the moment we've all been waiting for. We'll see how that goes, won't we? Things may differ from the movie, so please, no hate. The scene below is a part of the deleted scene of the ride to Ravenhill. Look it up on YouTube. It's awesome!**

 **The songs below are:**

Magnetic by Jessie J

Rise Up by Beyoncé

Rise Up by Andra Day

 **Not many songs, and you'll see why. I don't own any of them, and I also don't own the Hobbit characters, places, etc. They all belong to their respective artists and Tolkien, except Linnor and Ciranel, who are mine.**

 **Review!**

* * *

It was an absolute nightmare. A ghoulish, bloody massacre that tore at her eyes and ears with a startlingly painful clarity. Everywhere she looked, orcs were screaming in Black Speech vile curses, wargs and trolls and other monsters barred their dripping fangs, snarling and making horrendous noises that echoed inside her helmet. Then, beneath that carnage, there were the glinting golden flashes of the Mirkwood and Imladrisian Elves, their melodic cries somehow worse than the beastly yowling. The Men's screams, too, were audible in the din, their voices harsher and filled with a tangible mix of defiance and fear. Linnor knew Bard was no doubt somewhere in this violent melee, and she hoped, dearly, that Bain and Sigrid and Tilda were safe. They were much to innocent to be caught in the middle of a bloodbath.

But the sounds that haunted Linnor the most were the barbaric battle cries of the Dwarves of the Iron Hills and of Erebor. Her kin and family. They had broken down the wall in one fell swoop, charging out into the field, a small warrior army they were, but it had been enough to rally Dain and the Men, the Elves and all of their allies. Linnor was there, in her own shining armor, charging out into the throng beside Thorin, Kili, Fili, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori, Balin, Dwalin, and, maybe, Gandalf and Bilbo, Lord Elrond, King Thranduil, Bard, Legolas and Ciranel. Her friends and her family, ready to lay down their lives for Erebor and all of Middle Earth.

As she ran into the tumult, her armor tightly strapped to her body, Linnor felt the familiar thrumming in her veins, the rhythm of the battle, a subtle drumming in her ears that almost drowned out the screaming. Linnor gripped her broadsword and charged to meet an oncoming orc head on, the disgusting thing shrieking as it swung a spiked mace towards her head. Just like before, it would seem like instinct took control of her body. Linnor's head felt like it was spinning, the pressure from the helmet, her labored breathing as she ducked underneath the orc's outstretched arm, spinning around in almost the same second to thrust the sword through it's spine and straight into the heart. Black ichorous blood spewed from the wound, coating the fine blade. Linnor yanked the sword from the body, letting the dead orc fall. Linnor turned around, back to the war, and saw that not much had happened. It was like no one had moved, everyone stuck grappling their same foe.

"I'm moving at a speed that makes everybody look slow." Linnor muttered to herself, oddly proud. "Alright. Let's get this show on the road." Linnor swung her sword in a wide arc, feeling the nerves in her fingers prickle and that same jolt of electricity run through her arms and body.

"Come on." Linnor chanted to herself as she eyed the next ugly thing. "There isn't any way you're pulling me down. Come on. Come on!" she let out a shriek; startling the approaching goblin thing and making him stop short. Seconds later, it was speared through and through by another of its hoard who failed to stop in time. Linnor quickly cut them both to size with two long strokes of her broadsword, more tarry blood coating her body.

"Linnor!"

She whirled around, surprised at the sound of someone calling her name in this incredible chaos. Whoever it was, they were lost to her in the mass of writhing bodies and clashing metal and roars of armies. Linnor scanned the piles around her quickly. She had known that voice, but it hadn't been clear enough. Was it –

A huge explosion shook the ground with enough force to send Linnor flying, and she didn't even have time to scream as she found herself airborne. After what felt like an eternity off the ground, she landed hard, the armor protecting her from any serious injury, but she felt the shockwaves of the landing jolting up her spine. Carefully, she scrambled to her feet, more clumsily than she liked, really, she felt like a turtle on its back, and looked to see what had caused the massive disruption.

"Beorn!" Linnor cried out, recognizing the humongous black bear tearing his way into the war. The skin changer let out a bellowing roar, and Linnor grinned as she watched him spear a troll on his claws, sending the massive body flying and simultaneously crushing a small host of squealing goblins. Linnor watched with odd satisfaction for another minute before she returned her attention back to the chaos all around her. A harsh brittle wind kicked up, blowing blood spray and bits of dirt and debris up into her eyes and tearing her hair around her face. Linnor reached one gauntleted hand to cover her eyes and froze. Her hair shouldn't be loose. She had tied her hair into a long braided knot inside her helmet – her helmet. Linnor reached back in a panic and felt only the loose braid of her hair. But no helmet. It must have gotten knocked off her ehad when she had gone flying before and hit the ground. Frantically, Linnor scanned the surrounding ground, but the chaos blocked her view in a rolling turmoil. Her helmet was gone. And a sudden low guttural snarl told her that something else had finally noticed her vulnerability.

Linnor whirled around to see a dark blue Warg, its fur torn in places, stained darker in places with blood. One of its eyes was ripped out of the socket, an blood was pouring down the front of its face, dripping down over its muzzle and into its open mouth, coating its slick fangs. The one eye it still had was focused directly on her. Slowly, Linnor reached down to where her sword was strapped – except it wasn't. Linnor froze in place, her heart beating fast, the battle thrum in her veins ding down and she felt cold. She had nothing – no sword, no helmet. Linnor couldn't move as the Warg took a step forward, then another.

 _Think, Linnor, think! Don't just stand there and wait to die!_

Linnor glanced around, trying to spot something, anything, she could use as a weapon. Nothing – and the dark blue, bloodstained Warg was coming closer. Linnor took a step backwards, and fell, tripping over the body of a strange dead elven warrior. Linnor landed awkwardly on her back and tried to move, but she couldn't, and she fell back again. There was a tight pressure on her left ankle, and Linnor saw that her boot was caught underneath the soldier's back.

"Come on." Linnor gasped. She leaned forward and tried to reach the sheath on his waist that held a silver dagger with a symbol of a green leaf on the hilt. Her gloved fingers fumbled on the sheath and the clasp that held it to his belt, and the Warg, with a decisive snarl, leapt for her.

There was a sudden explosion of bright, white light, sending everyone sprawling, the dark creatures hissing and wailing in pain. Linnor clutched her dagger tightly, blinking against the glare. As the light receded, Linnor gasped in surprise.

"My Lady."

In front of her shone a tall, powerfully beautiful elven woman encased in silver and white. Unlike the others in the battle, she wasn't wearing armor, yet her presence indicated that she withheld immense force of strength and power able to hold of a vast number of enemies. At her feet lay the blue Warg, its head nearly severed from its body, its black tongue lolling from its still gaping mouth.

Lady Galadriel looked down on her, her fierce demeanor melting slightly. She held out her hands to her, and Linnor, awestruck, took them and let the Lady of Lothlorien pull her to her feet.

" _Linnor Alea Sathren Durin. You are a warrior. Be who you are. You are the change in this war. Fight, Linnor. Stand and fight and rise."_

Linnor nodded slowly, hardly aware of the Elven Queen pressing something into her palms. Another shimmering blast of light – more squeals and screaming in Black Speech – and she was gone, the dead Warg the only indication of her ever even being there in the first place. Linnor looked down and saw a gleaming sword – a thin blue glow coming from a thin elfish scrawl etched on the side of the blade – in her hands.

 _Fight, Linnor. You are the change in this war._

"Linnor!" Thorin's voice bellowed over the din like a troll's call. She spun to face her uncle, and saw that Fili, Kili, Balin and Dwalin stood behind him, in a huge chariot type metal contraption led by six huge ram like beasts all harnessed together. Thorin himself sat astride one, and Linnor recognized them as the beasts Dain had brought from the Iron Hills. They were all, dwarf and beast alike, smeared with dirt and grime and blood.

"I need you with me." Thorin roared. "We are going to end this once and for all, and take out their leader. For Durin!"

 _You are the change in this war._

Linnor nodded and Kili pulled her up beside him in the metal chariot. Thorin galloped off on his lone steed, charging a path through an oncoming surge of orcs. With a mighty yell, Balin snapped the reigns of the rams attached to their cart, and the six things shot forward, barreling after Thorin, and taking more orcs down with a hit from their powerful horns. There were blades attached to the wheels of the cart, and Kili held a sword on the stone wheels, sharpening it to a gleaming point as they rode with alarming speed towards another approaching army.

"Here. Take this!" Kili shouted and handed Linnor a second blade, which she took and spun around in her left hand. She swallowed hard and leaned back against the metal as the chariot took a hard turn, riding over the beaten and bloodied bodies of the dead.

Dwalin let out a strangely cheerful bellow, and Linnor watched with morbid fascination as he managed a giant crossbow that was welded to the front end of the chariot. Using a crank on the side, Dwalin sent arrow after arrow into the sea of orcs, clearing a bloody path after Thorin. Suddenly, there was the sound of a horn coming from the top of what Linnor had heard Balin call Ravenhill, a crag of ice and stone attached to the side of the mountain peak, and where Azog the Defiler had taken post. Linnor held onto her two swords and saw with grim horror that dozens of mountain trolls were aiming to converge on their cart.

"LOOK OUT!" she screamed, and Fili and Kili's heads whipped forward. Eight massive, pale trolls were heading straight towards them, just beyond a small cliffed hill, each roaring ferociously, and carrying a long spiked club.

"BALIN! WATCH IT!" Kili called to the older dwarf, who seemed to be in vague control of the animals driving them. Balin headed straight for the cliff, and the rams surged over the edge, coming to land hard on the ground between the approaching trolls, and continuing on their way. The cart, however, hit the top edge of the hill with a bang, sending Linnor sliding forward, and suddenly, the spinning blades in the center of the wheels shot out, and in one fell swoop, all eight trolls were beheaded, blood spurting out of their necks in waves that doused the entire front end of the chariot and coating Linnor from head to toe, her face dripping in the black tar. As the cart landed, Linnor wiped her eyes clear of the muck, and saw the trolls' bodies still standing, walking aimlessly without heads back into the throng of war.

"Absolutely revolting." She spat as the others cheered.

"HEADS UP, LADS!" Balin called out, and they all looked forward again to see another charging troll, except this one was decked out in full body armor, covering every vulnerable spot possible on a creature that large. It roared and held up a black axe, and swung it down towards the front of their team. Balin gave a hard pull on the reigns, forcing the rams to make a sharp right around it, and the blade swung over their heads and hit the ground behind them. Linnor shrieked and dropped the sword Kili had given her, leaving her only with the blade from the Lady.

"HOLD ON!" Dwalin yelled and suddenly they were airborne again as their cart dove off the embankment to the river. Linnor screamed, and for a moment, she imagined them all falling into the roaring water, the weight of their armor dragging them down, slowly drowning them – and they landed, hard but steady on the frozen water. The entire river was encased in thick ice, and the rams rode on steadily. Their cart smashed into the rocks, but they stayed upright.

"I"M OUT!" Dwalin called, and Fili quickly handed him another stack of arrows, which the larger dwarf fit into the notch of the crossbow with a sick grin. Suddenly, there was a ferocious roar, and they all spun around to see the armored troll running alongside the river, slightly above them, and, in an act of remarkable strategy and troll-like stupidity and anger, the thing leapt out over them and landed in the river right behind the chariot. The troll shattered the ice, plunging it's body into the shocking water and breaking the ice ahead of him. It raged on after them, swinging its blades.

"BRING IT DOWN!" Dwalin yelled as the troll surged forward after them, breaking up the ice in giant waves. "KILI! SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!"

Kili grabbed a bow from behind Linnor, who was watching the horrendous events unfold, utterly terrified.

"WHERE?" Kili yelled as he tried to aim for any spot on the troll that wasn't protected by thick metal armor.

"AIM AT HIS JAMBAGS!" Dwalin ordered.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" Linnor screamed at the dwarf, both impressed and repulsed at what he had suggested. Kili turned to aim again, but turned back with a mixture of amusement and fear on his face. He was fighting the urge to laugh or smile, Linnor was sure.

"IT DOESN"T HAVE ANY JAMBAGS!" Kili yelled, before nocking an arrow anyway and shooting the troll somewhere in an exposed section of it's neck.

"HANG ON LADS! I'M COMING!" Bofur's always optimistic voice came out of nowhere, and Linnor looked up with relief to see the hatted dwarf….riding a pale troll? Indeed it was him – Bofur had managed to climb on top of another troll, two long metal chains drilled through its eye sockets and attached to cuff along its wrists. Bofur had ahold of them like reigns and he was directed the creature like a misshapen puppet, and the pale troll swung an enormous mace, hitting the armored one square in the face, knocking it back.

"GO BOFUR!" Linnor screamed as they were carried away from him, ever thankful for the happy dwarf for that stroke of genius.

"BOFUR, YOU – " Fili hollered but the rest of his praise was drowned out by the sound of a loud horn, and their chariot turned a bend in the river to see another troll blocking their path, it's legs in the river, and it's body over the span of the rest of the space. On its shoulders, it held a tree, and dozens of orcs were standing in wait.

'Will this hell never end?" Linnor swore. This was utterly insane. Azog must have sent them all to prevent them from reaching his post on Ravenhill. That was the only possible explanation. But where was Thorin?

Without a second thought, Dwalin tore through arrow after arrow on his crossbow, taking down all the orcs in a single row without missing a shot, and then took down the orc, knocking the ugly thing onto its back in time for the rams to drag the chariot over its writhing body like a bridge. Balin cheered as Dwalin roared in triumph, and Linnor managed to share a shaky grin with her fierce cousins before the howls and snarls of Wargs reached them. An entire pack leapt off the next bend, their fangs barred and snapping.

"WARGS!" Linnor warned as the first two leapt forward, taking down one of the rams leading their cart, detaching it from the reigns with a horrible snap. Orc warriors came riding down on them, coming to the side of the chariot and Linnor, with a burst of courage, darted forward and slashed out with her new sword, tearing a large gash in the chest of the soldier. With a second swing, he was beheaded, and his body collapsed onto his Warg. Linnor thrusted her sword down into the chest of the beast, and watched as it collapsed instantly, the blood pooling on the ice.

Fili and Kili slashed the remaining orcs, but more Wargs were still coming down the sides of the bank. The cart swerved, the blades on the wheels, skewering one on the rocks, but in that same moment, another Warg leapt down and tore another ram from the front. Now there were only four pulling the chariot, and they were slowing down.

"THERE"S MORE COMING!" Fili cried out, and Linnor looked with horror at the rampaging pack that was gaining on them from behind.

Linnor moved closer to the front to where Dwalin was, and her cousins did the same. Over the din of the howls and snarls and scraping metal on ice, she heard Dwalin speak to his brother.

"We're pulling too much weight. We won't make it."

Balin looked down at him, and at the three Durin's standing beside him.

"Cut the tracers." The elder dwarf barked. "Ride them to Ravenhill." Linnor gasped. Was he really suggesting - ?

"No, Balin." Dwalin's voice cut deeper than any knife. It was soft and broken as he looked up at his brother. He knew what Balin was suggesting, and he didn't like it either. Fili and Kili's faces were grim.

"My goat-riding days are over. I am getting too old for this." Balin smirked. "Durin be with you, brother."

Dwalin clasped his hand briefly before turning back to the front line, pulling Linnor up with him. Fili had already leapt over the chariot and was balancing on the harness that held together the rams leading them. He jumped over to the one in the lead and sat astride it and in one blow, cut the chains holding it to the chariot and broke it loose, galloping off free and ahead of them. Kili was next, and he rode straight off after his brother. Dwalin was third, and Linnor right behind him, landing on the last remaining ram and severing the final tie to the chariot – and Balin. She heard the sound of the crossbow firing, but she didn't dare look back at him. She prayed to Mahal she might see the dwarf at the end of it all.

"ONWARDS!" Thorin's voice carried down from the top of the ridge, and they were suddenly riding uphill to Ravenhill. Linnor gripped the saddle head of her ride tightly, the hard wind becoming biting against the metal and her bare skin. They were riding far behind Erebor's gates, to the higher top of the Lonely Mountain, where already snow had fallen and an entire lake had frozen over. On the far end, Linnor saw that it dipped into a steep waterfall, and there was another branched out formation of the mountain, leading high into the icy mist.

"Find Azog." Thorin panted, slowing. "It's time we settled things. Linnor, Dwalin, you're with me on this side. Fili, Kili – " Thorin looked over to his two eager and determined heirs. "This is a scouting mission only. Do not attack Azog. He is mine. Take the far side and report back. " he ordered briskly. Fili and Kili's faces were somber for a moment as they acknowledged their uncles' words, but hat gleam of bloodlust and excitement came into Kili's eyes and they were gone into the ice mist.

"What now?" Linnor said quietly, moving her gaze back to Thorin and Dwalin.

"We wait." Thorin said, not looking away from where his nephews had gone. "Wait for our chance to show them that we Durin's will rise."

Linnor swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat and she clutched her sword to her chest.

 _We are Durins. We can move mountains and win wars. I can do this. I can be here. I will fight. I'll rise up. I'll rise like the day. I'll rise unafraid, in spite of the ache. I am a Durin._

Linnor grit her teeth and closed her eyes for a moment. Images of Fili and Kili, of Ciranel and Legolas, her friends below flashed before her eyes. She would fight – for them. She would rise.


	62. Chapter 62: The Battle (Part Two)

**A/N: Okay, first let me just say that I am so sorry. You'll know why. I know what I said and what I promised, but I did change something! Please, no hate! This is also a very long chapter.**

 **The songs below are:**

I Am Moana from Moana

Little Fall of Rain from Les Miserable

To The Sky by Owl City

 **Please know that as much as the ending of Battle of Five Armies broke my heart, in some way, it was the only way that it had to end. I did make a slight change here in my story, as you will read, but I owe all credit to J.R.R Tolkien.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

Kili crept down the tunnel of the mountain, his breath coming out in icy clouds of mist, small peculiar puffs, like smoke rings from his lips. The tunnel wasn't very wide, though it was well lit enough and airy – many spaces were carved from the walls, sort of like half finished windows, letting in the light off the snow and making the small space seem less confining. Kili paused as he reached a two-way fork in the tunnel, one moving up to the top and the other moving down to a lower level. He felt Fili come up from behind him and knew his brother was assessing the best decision.

It was odd – Thorin had never mentioned paths like these so far outside the inner city. In fact, these tunnels didn't look like they were dwarven made – and they aimed away from Erebor's heart – but the walls were smooth and refined, and this was still and intimate tower of the Lonely Mountain. Kili wondered if they were uncharted from his uncle's days, or if they wee newer. But if that was the case, then what was their purpose?

"Kili, are you alright?" Fili touched his shoulder, and Kili looked at his big brother, hoping his emotions could remain off his face for once.

"I'm fine, Fee. Just thinking."

"Well, don't strain yourself." Fili smirked and Kili rolled his eyes.

"Funny, you are. Come on, Thorin's waiting on a full report and we got two paths to scout. " Kili nudged his brother to move up. "I'll head uphill, see if I spot anything from a higher vantage point. You take the lower level."

"Kili, are you sure splitting up is such a good idea? Especially now?" Fili questioned.

"Do you have a better plan? Look, we don't have time, and we can cover more ground this way." Kili stepped around and in front of his brother, then turned to face him and press their foreheads together.

"Be careful, Kee." Fili said at last. "I promised Amad I'd get us both home. Alive."

"I will brother." Kili whispered. "And I made the same promise. So we both can't be liars to Amad, now, can we? Don't leave me to face that beating alone."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Fili smiled, and then he let his little brother go. Kili grinned at him, just for a moment, but in that split second, Fili was reminded of the tiny, dark haired dwarfling of his childhood – his baby brother: when he was born, when he was Kili's hero, his big brother who could do anything and he would give him that smile just for him, when they were always together, always side by side, always Fili and Kili – the boys of Ered Luin. Fili remembered every single thing that they did, from the time Kili was able to walk and toddle after his big brother to the moments just before they left home for the Shire. He remembered Kili's first Weapons Ceremony, Kili's first Birthing Day Celebration, the first time Kili came to him, crying because of an insult another boy in the village had said, the times when Kili confessed his insecurities of never matching up to him, or up to what Thorin was expecting. All these things ran through Fili's mind, and then his brother turned and ran up the tunnel on the left, back up higher to the top of the mountain.

Fili turned then himself, and took the path on the right, back down into the lower levels of the mountain, only slightly slower than what Kili had gone. Fili couldn't help it – the image of his brother running into the open light of the outside, becoming a silhouette in the brightness – Fili couldn't help but feel that his brother was already gone.

* * *

It was like they were completely detached from everything else. Linnor stood with Thorin and Dwalin in silence as they watched the other side of the lake, waiting for a sign of Fili and Kili, or Azog. Linno knew that they had to find him in order to end this, but she also hoped that he wasn't there in those tunnels with her cousins. They had only barely really become a family – they had to introduce her to Dis, and Fili was going to be King after Thorin, and she and Kili would be the prince and princess of Erebor, having adventures all the time. Kili just got well again – he couldn't die now. Not when they were so close to winning.

"What's that?" Dwalin's voice, rough and callous, was startling in the near silence, and Linnor nearly jumped. But instead, she was fixated on the shadowy figures that were emerging from the mist and standing on top of the mountain crag across the frozen water.

"Azog."

A tall, disfigured shape emerged from the fog, a pale figure – crisscrossed and marred by red trailing scars all over it's body, a metal claw-like hook attached to its right arm, where the flesh and bone had been severed. Even from this distance, Linnor saw the black fire in his eyes, and the sick leer he aimed at Thorin as if in triumph. As the mist continued to clear and part, Linnor saw that Azog was not alone. Behind him, there were at least a dozen more armored orcs, all greying skin and broken teeth, and all fo them drenched in black, slimy blood, visible even at this distance. They were grinning, too, saliva dripping over their chins.

There was another movement, too, but further below them, on a thin slope of the mountain side. Linnor squinted and as the figure came into view, she gasped.

"Thorin. Look below him. Twenty feet."

Though Linnor did not turn to face Thorin, she knew he had heard her frantic whisper. He gave a sharp inhale and suddenly he stood taller, with more pride than he had a moment before, if that were even possible. She knew he recognized the dirty blonde hair and the fine light armor. Fili crouched low to the ground, still half hidden in the shadow of the tunnel opening. He looked out across the lake at them, and then peeked his head out slowly, glancing above him at the snarling orcs who had not sensed his presence yet. Linnor held back a grin. Fili was alive. He was there, and that meant they had at least part of the upper hand, and it was something Azog was not expecting. Now they only had to find Kili, and hope he could add to the element of surprise.

Azog roared out something dreadful in Black Speech, the sound itself seeming to be like knives tracing over her skin, not digging deep enough to kill her, but just enough to make her bleed. Linnor had no idea what was being said, so she chanced a glance at Thorin and Dwalin, who no doubt could understand what the Pale Orc was conveying. She was shocked at their faces. Both dwarves had not moved, their bodies taught and still, but they had paled considerably. Thorin's stoic mask had come undone, and Linnor could see the final amount of fear he was in. Linnor looked back at the mountain crag – and screamed.

There, being held up roughly by two of the slobbering, bloody orcs, was Kili – his face was beaten and covered in blood, and his head lolled down on his chest weakly. His armor was torn to shreds, and Linnor could see an array of cuts underneath.

"KILI!" Linnor screamed again and she darted forward. Before she go anywhere, however, she found herself held back by Thorin's arms.

"Stop. Linnor, stop. He's alive!"

She looked back at her uncle, then up again at Azog. Kili had raised his head and she could see the fierce defiance in his eyes. Azog laughed, an awful, awful sound, and dragged him forward, dangling the young prince over the edge, right above Fili. Linnor saw the blonde heir gasp and saw his face cloud over in anger and fear.

"KILI!" Fili screamed, and he leapt from his place below them. With snarls of surprise, the orcs jumped down to meet the blonde prince, Azog still holding onto Kili. Fili swung his sword wildly, and one by one, the orcs fell with spatters of blod and gore. But still more came from behind the Pale Orc, and there were snarls and guttural noises from behind them as well, and Linnor whirled to see more of the Dark Army approaching them on this side of the lake.

"Dwalin, go to Fili. Save my nephews." Thorin barked, and with nothing more than a nod, the tattooed warrior was off to the prince's aid. "Linnor, are you ready to fight with me?"

"Yes, my King." Linnor nodded, and she turned her back on her cousins. She would find them when this was over. She hoped. Linnor raised her blade, and she saw with some satisfaction that it was glowing now, a faded blue-white light, and with one final nod at Thorin, her uncle and King, they ran foreword to meet the oncoming beasts.

Linnor didn't know how long she fought. At some point, she and Thorin were separated, and she found herself alone, fighting off dozens and dozens of Orcs as they endlessly flooded up from whatever crevice or secret passage that they had found. Her blade was no longer blue-white, but almost solidly black, and the hilt was so slick with blood that she was losing her grip. More and more monsters swarmed her, and Linnor kept swinging her blade, thrusting and attacking with all her might, even though she could feel her muscles burning and the ache in the backs of her legs. She had no idea where Thorin was, or Dwalin or Fili and Kili, or whether or not they were even still alive. Linnor gave a choking sob as she swung her sword around and up, severing another orc's neck in one go, it's blood spraying into the eyes of another, blinding it, and sending it reeling backwards towards the edge of the waterfall. Linnor dashed forward, and with one single stab, she sent the thing tumbling down back to the depths of hell where it belonged.

Breathing heavily, Linnor turned back around to see a nearly empty span of ice. The mist had closed in around her again, and she saw nothing, although she could hear the battle still going on. She could hear Dwalin shouting for Thorin to old on, and she heard another voice, Fili's or Kili's she could not tell. They were alive then. At least for now. Carefully, but with purpose, Linnor started to make her way over to where she thought the yelling was louder.

Suddenly, with a terrifying screech, a dark black shape loomed up out of the fog in front of her. It wasn't an orc – it was much bigger and far uglier. It was a beast she had never seen before. It's eyes were huge and white, almost bulging out of its head and seemingly blind. Its mouth was gaping and wide, a long slick blackish tongue hissing out over three rows of sharp cracked teeth. It's skin was grey and scaly, and bit and pieces of armor, made entirely of bone, was covering its most vulnerable parts. It screamed again, and sent out a large fist in her direction. Linnor was too stunned to avoid it, and she was sent flying backwards, her head cracking sharply on the ice as she skidded to the edge of the waterfall. Linnor dug in her gauntlet, the edges of the metal screeching into the ice, but, Linnor thanked Mahal, it slowed her down, and she managed to stop herself from topping to her death. She heard another roar, and the ice shook as the beastly thing ran towards her. Linnor tried to raise her head, but her vision swam as a pulse of pain rode her skull. She closed her eyes, and knew, without a doubt that this was it.

"NO!"

There was another scream, a woman's, and the clash of metal on metal, and Linnor opened her eyes to see an tall warrior attacking the brute. She was elfish, and her armor caked in dirt and red and black blood. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she fought, and when she slashed at the monster, leaping up onto it's arm and swinging round to straddle its neck from behind, Linnor got a clear look at her face.

"Ciranel!"

Her mother glanced down at her, and drove home the blade through the top of the creature's head. The blade pierced all the way into it's throat, cutting off it's scream, its eyes bulging further out of its head in a final attempt to breathe, but at last, it collapsed forward. Ciranel hopped off as it landed, sliding on the ice gently and swiftly, and coming to land on her knees by her daughter's side.

"Linnor, are you alright? Speak to me."

"What are you doing?" Linnor asked, trying t sit up, but her head still throbbed and Ciranel pushed her back. "You should be in the main battle."

"It is near dying now, do not worry." Ciranel hushed her. "Azog is dead. The dark forces have been almost completely wiped out, and while there are many innocent casualties, I think we have won."

"Really?" Linnor couldn't help it – she laughed.

"Yes." Ciranel smiled down at her. "It's over. And I promise, Linnor, I will let you choose where you wish to be. I will stay by your side, Heaven allow. Never again am I going to leave you, or lie to you. I will tell you everything you wish, and we can be a real family."

"I'd like that." Linnor said softly, and she reached up to touch her mother's face.

Ciranel smiled again – and gasped. She made a sound as if she was choking and a hand went to her stomach. Linnor sat up quickly, ignoring the pain lancing through her.

"What? What is it? Ciranel – "

And she saw it. A long black arrow jutting from her mother's stomach, the shaft going straight through from her back. The tip was sleek and nasty, and there was something white tipped at the ends. Bone. Linnor heard a pleased snarl, and she looked to see a goblin archer standing on the peak on a small ridge not thirty feet away. Furious, and half blinded by tears, Linnor got to her feet, trying to ignore her mother now slumped over the reddening ice, and pulled a small throwing knife from her back sheath. The goblin sneered at her and reached to knock another arrow. But Linnor had already let her knife fly, and although she had never before, she knew her aim was true. Sure enough, the blasted thing let out a yelp as the blade sunk deep into it's chest, and the wretched thing went over the side, rolling and driving the knife deeper and deeper into its heart. When it landed, it was dead.

Quickly, Linnor turned back to her mother. Her eyes were closed and hr breathing was quick and shallow. There was too much blood around her wound and Linnor couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips as she touched her mother's shoulder.

"Ciranel…." She whispered. "Mother….Mother, please. You can't leave me. Not like this. You promised me we'd be a family. Mother, please." She cried. She felt a soft pressure on her wrist and looked to see her mother's eyes, half closed, but lucid and staring at her peacefully.

"Linnor…baby, do not cry. I'm going to be with your father now. It's alright. You will live on, Princess. I love you."

"No!" Linnor begged, reaching out to grab hold of her. "No, you can't go! There's so much I don't know! You were supposed to teach me things. You were supposed to tell me who I am and – and – "

" _I know a girl from a tower,_

 _she stands apart from the crowd._

 _She loves to sing with her people._

 _She makes her whole family proud._

"Hush now, Mother." Linnor shushed, even though her mother's singing voice was stronger than it should have been. She was still weak, and it was fading by the minute. "Save your strength."

" _Sometimes the world seems against you_

 _The journey may leave a scar._

 _But scars can heal, and reveal_

 _Just who you are."_

Ciranel reached up to touch her face, and Linor could feel the wetness of her mother's blood on her cheeks.

"The people you love will change you." Ciranel whispered. "The things you have learned will guide you. You don't need me."

"Yes, I do." Linnor sobbed. "I need you."

"Nothing on earth can silence that quiet voice still inside you." Ciranel chuckled, and blood spilled out of her mouth and onto her chin. "I know you, Linnor. That voice that called for adventure and longing is still there. It's still calling you."

"I can't hear it." Linnor whispered.

"Listen. When that voice starts to whisper….oh, Linnor. You've come so far." Ciranel's breath caught, and her hand tightened on Linnor's cheek, the nails digging into the skin. "Linnor, listen. Linnor, do you know who you are?"

And then, like the whisper of the wind through the grass in summer, Linnor's mother let out a wisp of a breath, like a sigh, and her hand dropped limp from her face, her eyes now closed. She was dead. Linnor reached out a shaking hand to touch her mothers forehead.

"Who am I?" she said.

" _I am a girl who loves her freedom,_

 _a girl who loves her family._

 _They call me._

 _I am the daughter of a mountain king,_

 _We are descended from warriors._

 _We fought our way across the world._

 _They call me."_

Linnor gently laid her mother's hands across her chest and stood. She looked out to the rest of the lake, and saw a few more bodies scattered across the frozen water. Her family…she had to go see.

"I've delivered us to where we are." She said softly, looking back at her mother. "I have journey far. I am everything I learned and more, thanks to you. And still…." Linnor took in a sharp breath, and she smiled sadly at her dead mother. She understood, at last.

" _And the call isn't out there at all_

 _it's inside me._

 _It's like the tide, always falling and rising._

She leant down to kiss her mother's head, gently, and stood again, wiping the last remaining tear from her face.

" _I will carry you here in my heart_

 _You'll remind me_

 _That come what may_

 _I know the way."_

"I am, and always will be, your daughter." Linnor said, before she turned away and ran to where she saw her company was gathering. They were all there: Oin, Gloin, Bifur (who had somehow lost his axe), Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Nori and Ori. As Linnor ran closer, they all turned to her, and there was a mix of relief and grief on all their faces. Finally, Linnor reached them, and saw the sight before her.

Thorin lay on the ice, in a pol of his blood. Azog lay dead behind him, and there was Bilbo, kneeling at his head.

"Bilbo." Thorin's voice was like a whisper, and Linnor's own seemed lost.

"Don't move, don't move." The hobbit said, frantically looking for anyplace to put his hands. "Lie still."

"I am glad you are here."

"Shhhh." Bilbo hushed him, but he wavered.

"I wish to part from you in friendship."

"No." Linnor came forward and knelt beside Bilbo. "You are not going anywhere Thorin. You are going to live." Her voice cracked. "I cannot lose you, too."

"Linnor." Thorin's soft voice came to her like a sigh of relief. "You are alive. I am glad. I lost you in the battle, and I hope you forgive me for not being able to protect you."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Linnor shook her head. "Nothing. Save your strength, now, Thorin, please. It's over. We've won."

"I was never supposed to make it this far." Thorin coughed, and blood spilled over his chin, and Linnor remembered, moments before, her mother's dying words. "But I did. And we have our home back."

"Now you must live in it like you wished." Linnor said quietly. "Like you promised me, Thorin. Do not go back on your promise to me."

"I'm so sorry, Linnor. When I see your father…when I see Frerin, I will tell him…."

"What, Thorin?"

But his eyes had left hers and returned to Bilbo's.

"I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see it. And I am so sorry….that I led you into such peril."

"No." Bilbo's eyes were wet and tears streaked through the dirt on his cheeks. "I am glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. It is far more than any Baggins deserves."

"Linnor…." Thorin returned to her. "Don't you fret, Linnor Durin. I do not feel any pain. Not even a little fall of rain could hardly hurt me now. You're here. That's all I need to know."

"I will stay with you until you are sleeping." Linnor gave a small laugh, but it was deterred by her tears, now far more forceful.

"Farewell….master burglar." And he was speaking to Bilbo again. "Go back to your books….and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people…valued home….above gold…" his breathing was labored now, "this world would be a merrier place."

As he turned his nearly vacant gaze back to her, the sun came up over the sky, and a golden glow seemed to shimmer above them all. Faintly, Linnor could hear a noise, like the rising tide, but she ignored it for her uncle.

"Durin's Daughter…." He sighed. "You have made me so proud…."

And just like that, the King Under the Mountain – Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror – was dead.

"No!" Linnor thought she had screamed, but it was Bilbo instead. Linnor felt numb. "No, no, no, no. Thorin, don't you dare! Thorin….hold on. Hold on, please." And the hobbit, the hobbit from the Shire, broke down in tears over his friend.

"Look. " someone said, behind her. "The eagles are here."

Linnor looked up, and sure enough, the great Golden Eagles were circling and landing all around them, calling out to each other. But it was too late.

 _There's a realm above the trees_

 _At last I'd thought I'd found_

 _But touch your feathers to the breeze_

 _And leave the ground_

 _Cause after all those wings will take you_

 _Up so high_

 _So bid the forest floor goodbye as you race the wind_

 _And take to the sky"_

Linnor sang quietly, and she imagined, as she did, that she could see a glimmer of something ghostly waft up high into the oncoming sunrise and away into the Heavens. Sighing, she stood, leaving Bilbo beside the King, and turned to face the grieving company.

"Where are my cousins?" she asked suddenly, realizing that there were still two more members unaccounted for. Dwalin stepped forward after a moment, looking grim, and her heart stopped.

"This way, lass. We haven't had time."

He led her back to the other side of the lake, where Fili and Kili had gone before, and up the side of the hill. Through various paths he took her, past dead orcs and elves and other vile scum that smeared the walls dark. Finally, he stopped, and Linnor had to shoulder her way past him to see the dreadful sight beyond.

"Linnor?"

She couldn't believe it.

"Fili. You're alive."

And she raced forward to her cousin, and leapt, letting him catch her midair and hold her to his body tightly, desperately. Linnor clutched at the bloody strands of blonde hair, sobbing uncontrollably, afraid to let go for a second because if she did, she wondered if he would disappear as well. But he was real, and alive. Fili.

"Fili, you're alive. Dear God, you are still alive." Linnor sobbed when she finally pulled away. Fili's face was smeared with blood, and he was crying, hard.

"I know Thorin is dead. I saw him fall." Fili said softly. "And so is Kili. Kili is dead. I could not save him. My brother. My baby brother. Kili –"

Fili broke off again, his sobs frantic as he fell to his knees. There, behind him, was the body of the youngest heir. Linnor fell beside her cousin, the last of her family, and held him to her. There they sat for the longest time, crying over all that they had lost in their victory.

* * *

 **Please tell me what you thought. I'm sorry things had to happen this way, but I felt like it was for the best for my story. I appreciate all feedback. Another chapter will be up soon, but I'm going on vacation and may not have access for a while. Stay tuned!**


	63. Chapter 63: I'm Still Here

**A/N: Back again with another chapter. Did you think it was over? Oh, not by a long shot. Trust me, I have a lot more to say with this story.**

 **In case you were wondering, there will not be a sequel to this. Everything will be resolved eventually in this one fan fiction.**

 **The next few chapters are going to be focused on Fili and Linnor and how they are coping with their loved ones deaths. Hope you guys are up for some emotional turmoil.**

 **The songs below are:**

Diamonds by Hawk Nelson

How To Save A Life by The Fray

I'm Still Here from Treasure Planet

Unsteady by The X Ambassadors

 **Continue to review and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

The next day was quiet. After all the carnage and the bloodshed the day before – the screaming, the howling, the crying – it was hard to remember that days like these – quiet ones where everything was done – even existed.

Linnor stood in what used to be the front gates of Erebor, looking out over the ashy grey desolation that once was the great and Lonely Mountain. Thousands and thousands of bodies lay scattered across the vast expanse; the orcs and the other dark things were being piled away from the fallen heroes and allies to the line of Durin by the Eagles and Beorn. They were making quick work of the mess, but it would still be a few hours before they finished.

Linnor stared, not really seeing anything anymore. Out there, among the ruins and decaying bodies, was her mother. Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. Her cousin and her uncle – Linnor held back a sob. Her cousin and uncle were dead. Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, and Kili, the youngest heir and Prince of Durin, were dead. Her entire family was dead, slaughtered, leaving her alone in a cold and cruel place a world away from anything she ever knew.

No. That wasn't right. Linnor shook her head slightly, breaking her small stupor. She wasn't alone. Fili survived. Her cousin, the oldest heir, and now the rightful King of Erebor, was alive. And – Linnor thought with a relieved sort of shock – so was Dis, her aunt, hidden away back in Ered Luin, awaiting news of her brother and sons. Except now, she had no brother, and only one son. And a niece, Linnor thought wryly. That was hardly a replacement for all the kin she has lost.

"Linnor."

She turned her back on the depressing scene to face Dwalin. The older dwarf stood awkwardly, his eyes not fully meeting hers. He was still in the remaining shreds of his armor from the battle earlier, and there was dried blood on his hands and chest.

"Dwalin." Linnor nodded her head politely before moving closer. To her surprise, Dwalin stepped back away from her, shuffling his feet nervously. "Is everything alright?"

"Lady Linnor – "

"Stop." Linnor held up her hand. "Fili may have insisted that be my name, especially when he is around, but it really is not necessary. Especially not from a friend."

"Linnor, then." Dwalin spoke swiftly, as if he was building the courage to say what he had obviously come to say. "You are…very kind. And you have just suffered an enormous loss."

"We have all suffered, Dwalin. Yes, I lost almost all of my family –" Linnor's voice broke, and she stopped. Tears threatened to fall – she could feel them prickle at the edges of her eyes – but she held them back with a steadying breath. She had to be strong now, for all their sakes. "But you have lost a friend. Two dear friends."

"I am so sorry, my Lady." Dwalin said, ignoring the look of exasperation Linnor shot him. "I am so sorry, and you have every right to despise me for my failings –"

"Despise you?" Linnor gasped, nearly taking a step backwards in her shock. "Dwalin, why on Earth would I despise you? What failings?"

"You know." The dwarf's voice was low, eerily reminiscent of Thorin's, and his eyes were dark and downcast.

"No. No, I don't know." Linnor regained her composure quickly. "Dwalin, whatever this is about, can it wait? Fili is being crowned tomorrow morning, and Kili and Thorin's burials must be prepared for – "

"They wouldn't have had to be if it wasn't for me!" Dwalin shouted, and for the first time, Linnor caught sight of his face: drawn tight with pain, the massive dwarf's face was splotched red, as if he had broken out in hives. His eyes were red rimmed and glassy, and Linnor saw a thin tear trailing it's way down his cheek and into the fine hairs of his beard. "Thorin – he told me to go after the lads, to help protect Fili and – and Kili. And I did my best, I did, but I couldn't reach –" Dwalin choked back his words, his usually impassive face overrun with emotion. "I had to choose, miss. Fili was in one place, and Kili was in another, and in far worse shape, and he saw me, looked right at me. I – I tried to get his brother first because he was closer. And by the time I reached Fili, I heard him scream, and I knew – I knew Kili was dead." Dwalin paused, taking in a shuddering breath, his face red with the effort of his confession.

Linnor was frozen in place. She couldn't believe what he was saying. He thought he was to blame for Kili's death? That was ridiculous! Linnor would have said so then and there except for two reasons: one was that she didn't trust herself to speak yet, and the second was that she could tell that that was not everything Dwalin had to say.

"I knew Kili was dead." Dwalin said again, his voice soft. "And it was because I had failed him – I had failed Thorin and Dis – and Fili. And then I saw Thorin and Azog on the ice. I thought that if I could make it there to him, if I could save my King, it would be a small amends to the pain I've caused. But instead, I was too late, again, and this time my punishment was to watch Azog drive his blade into Thorin's heart, watch Thorin kill Azog at last in his final strength, and to witness his final breath."

"Dwalin, - " Linnor started, her voice hoarse.

"It's my fault your family is dead, my Lady. You should know that, know who to blame, who you and Fili and Dis should blame –"

"Dwalin, stop. STOP!" Linnor shouted. Her voice echoed in the chambering entrance hall and the blubbering dwarf was startled into silence. "First of all, I told you to stop addressing me as Lady. That is not me. Second of all, everything you said is completely and utterly ridiculous. Do not interrupt me." Linnor held up a firm hand to quell his scoff of protest. "Do you not think that Fili is going through the same as you? That if he had taken the other path, if they had not split up, if he had been quicker, then his little brother would maybe he would be here now? Or maybe had he been with Thorin, his uncle would be here. What if our brother, Balin, had been there with us? What about Dis, huh, Dwalin? Do you not think that she won't blame yourself for allowing her family to leave on a suicide mission?"

"I…" Dwalin trailed off, abashed at her relentlessness.

"Do you not think," Linnor said, and this time her voice shook, "that I don't blame myself for my mother's death? If it wasn't for me, she would never have been here, and I might have gotten some answers. Now, I never will." Slowly, Linnor took a step forward, and, encouraged when he didn't move away, she walked the rest of the way to her dear friend. "But we cannot live like that. We cannot live in the world of what-might-have-been. Dwalin, listen to me. We have all suffered losses these last few days. It's okay to be upset. But we canno go blaming each other – or ourselves. That is no way to grieve."

'Where did I go wrong?" Dwalin whispered, and to hear his voice like that, so lost and confused, nearly broke her heart.

"You lost a friend." Linnor hushed him.

"I always taught," Dwalin spoke, and this time, his voice was hard, "that I knew how to save a life. But I guess the truth is that I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

Linnor sighed, reaching out a hand to lay on the broad man's shoulder.

"I have a feeling none of us do."

* * *

Fili stood before the throne of his forefathers, the throne that was rightfully Thorin's, but was now his to claim. His throne. He was King Under The Mountain. Fili swallowed around the hard lump hat seemed to have lodged itself in his throat. He had never really believed this day would come. Becoming King had always seemed like a far off dream, not something to become a reality in this lifetime. And, even if he had imagined it once or twice, really entertained the idea, Fili had always seen Thorin, old and grey in his mind, standing with his mother and both smiling proudly in the halls of Erebor. And Kili was there, like always, finally come into his beard, and standing tall by his elder brother's side. Fili would sling an arm over his little brother's shoulder like when they were dwarflings, and they would be happy in their home.

Except now that was impossible. The lump in Fili's throat became bigger, and there seemed to be a matching one forming in his chest. Thorin was dead – killed valiantly while fighting Azog the Defiler. And – Fili let out a broken sob – his baby brother was dead. Kili. Fili had watched those monsters haul him to his feet, and Fili had shouted for his brother as he fought his way through the oncoming orcs. He heard Dwalin yell and join him, but Kili didn't respond. He was still, in their grasp, and through the blood stained on his face, Fili's eyes met Kili's, and he knew he wasn't going to make it. And then Dwalin was there and Fili screamed one last time as an orc drove his twisted blade into his baby brother's chest.

Fili knew he was crying, his sobs echoing painfully in the vast hall. He knelt down in front of the throne of Erebor, his hands on his knees and his head bowed.

 _Fili_

The voice was quiet, saying his name like a sigh or a whisper. But Fili knew that voice. It was the voice he heard all throughout his childhood, all through this quest, and a voice he would never hear again. Fili closed his eyes tightly.

"Thorin." He whispered. "Is that you?"

 _I am with you now, Fili. And so is your brother._

"Kili…" Fili sighed, his tears falling harder at the sound of his brother's name. "Is he – is he alright? Are you alright?"

 _I am fine, Fee._

Now it was Kili's voice he heard whispering to him, and Fili felt warmth embrace him.

 _I'm okay. Thorin and I are safe._

"You are gone from me." Fili whimpered. "You are gone, turned to Mahal's halls without me, a place where I cannot follow in this life."

 _My nephew._ Thorin's voice spoke gently to him, and Fili was reminded of when he was very small and his Uncle could take on the world and win.

 _We are never gone from you. Your brother and I will always be here –_ the painful lump in his chest lessened – _always with you, watching you grow and become a mighty King, a mighty dwarf of Erebor._

 _I am not going to leave you, big brother._ Kili's soft voice called to him. _I promise you._

"This better be a promise you can keep, Kee." Fili joked halfheartedly, feeling the weight on him lift slightly. "Wait for me while I'm still here. I'm still here, Uncle. I'm still here, little brother."

 _Yes._ Thorin's voice said. _You are the one Mahal and Durin have chosen to lead our people. Be proud. Hold your head high. Remember you are not alone. Your mother will come, and Linnor is still with you. You are each other's family._

Linnor. Fili had nearly forgotten his cousin in his own grief. He realized suddenly that she was more alone than he was – no father, no uncle, one less cousin, and the mother she had just reclaimed was dead.

 _Fili._ Kili's voice came close to his ear. _Please don't worry about us. He's making diamonds out of us. He is refining in his timing, and he's making diamonds out of us. We are okay, Fili, believe me. Go. Lead our people._

Fili bit his lip to keep from crying out for his brother. A few more tears leaked from his closed eyes and he took a deep steadying breath as he rose to his feet. He kept his head bowed.

 _Go Fili, King Under the Mountain. We will be by your side._

Fili opened his eyes then. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw his family's faces in front of his eyes – two pale ghostly figures of light and shadow – but he blinked and the vision was gone. Fili looked at the emerald and gold throne for a moment more before he turned and walked away, back into his city.

* * *

Linnor had left Dwalin down in the burial hall. That was where funerals were traditionally held, he had explained. The bodies were presented and honored before being entombed forever in their forefathers halls. After, there would be a celebration of their life, to honor their loved ones, their bravery and valor. And Fili will be crowned King the day after, Dwalin said, and she would officially be declared a Princess of Erebor. Linnor had listened vaguely, nodding and humming sounds of understanding until they had actually reached the burial room. It was a long room with three laid out stone – well, she supposed they were caskets, but to Linnor, they simply looked like display tables. Already, the bodies had been laid out, despite the funeral not being until later that evening.

Linnor peeked into the room from the entrance, noticing Balin and Dori standing back in the shadows, letting her look. At the farthest end lay Kili, his black locks fanning around his young face, his hands clasped on his chest, a long sword in his grip. Beside him, a broken bow and a small set of black fletched arrows. On the next table lay Thorin, his own mane of hair neatly placed, and in his hands, both Ocrist and the Arkenstone were placed, the jem glowing brilliantly in the dimness. And on the third table -

That was when she had left. Slowly and numbly, as if she was dreaming, Linnor had turned away from the sight of her elven mother laid out on the display (it was a burial table, she reminded herself) and walked past Balin and Dori and Dwalin and made her way here.

It was the tapestry Thorin had shown her a few days – had it really been a few days ago? Linnor stared at the woven faces of her aunt, a woman she had yet to meet, and her father and uncle, both gone before she ever really knew them. And below her, Linnor closed her eyes, was a mother she never thought she'd have – dead and gone.

"How did I get here?" Linnor wondered aloud. "I used to have nobody, no family. Now, I've gained and lost almost everyone who's mattered to me all at once. And I…" Linnor closed her eyes again and sighed to try and calm her emotions. Swallowing, Linnor glanced once more at the tapestry before she moved down the hallway to her room. Fili had offered to make up a new room that was all her own, but Linnor had declined, saying she preferred to stay in her father's room for now. Strangely enough, the space that had once intimidated her now calmed her immensely. Linnor entered her sanctuary, closing the door with relief.

The room was exactly as she had left it – right down to the old leather journal and the two piles of handwritten letters laid gently in the center of the massive bed. Seeing those, Linnor reached for the solid chain around her neck. She had kept it tucked under her armor during the battke, the feeling of the large heavy locket against her chest a source of comfort. Now she pulled her father's locket out in front of her, twisting the clasp to open it and reveal the tiny detailed sketches.

"Mama," Linnor touched the picture softly, "come here. Approach, appear."

But of course, she couldn't – not anymore. Ciranel, her mother and her longest friend, died protecting her. She was gone forever.

"Daddy," Linnor touched her father's sketch. "I'm alone. And this house," she huffed a little at that lax description, "this house doesn't feel like home."

 _Hold, hold on. Hold onto me_

 _Cause I'm a little unsteady_

 _A little unsteady_

"I'm trying to fight," Linnor cried. "But I'm so tired of being alone, and I'm unsteady. I'm a little unsteady, you guys. I don't – I just don't –" she sobbed, letting every single emotion pulse out of her. Linnor collapsed onto the bed – her bed – clutching the locket tightly in her hands.

It was some time later when she became aware of a hard pressure on her back, and Linnor reached underneath her and pulled out her parent's unread letters. Linnor's breathn caught. She had all but forgotten these. Slowly, Linnor unwound the leather strap holding her father's letters together, and then the ribbon that held her mother's. Linnor sifted through them, seeing the looping scrawls she recognized from her lessons in Rivendell so long again and the writing from the journal, and tried to put in order the first recorded conversation between her parents.


	64. Chapter 64: The Letters

**A/N: Hello again! So, here is the plan for the rest of the story. We are closing in on the end, but do not worry! It won't be for a while yet. I have a lot more for my characters to say, as well as bring back Bard, Thranduil, and of course, Legolas! But first, we must finally read what Frerin and Ciranel wrote to each other so long ago.**

 **The songs below are:**

A Drop in the Ocean by Ron Pope

You're Beautiful by James Blunt

You Make Me Smile by Uncle Kracker

Don't Deserve Your Love by Plumb

I Never Planned On You from Newsies

I Don't Know How To Love Him from Jesus Christ Superstar

Into The Open Air by Julie Fowlis

Heart Like Yours from If I Stay

All of the Stars by Ed Sheeran

A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

Heart By Heart by Demi Lovato

Secrets by OneRepublic

Hate me by Eurielle

Imagine by John Lennon

Stay by Hurts

At The Beginning from Anastasia

Something I Need by OneRepublic

Come Home by OneRepublic

Back To You by Alex and Sierra

I Love You by Alex and Sierra

Let Me Go by Christian Kane

I Will Wait For You by Us the Duo

Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie

 **DON'T PANIC! Only certain lyrics from the songs are used, not the songs themselves. I'm referencing all of them so you can see that I do not own anything you may recognize. I also have no rights on the Hobbit or characters specifically created by Tolkien. Only the characters Linnor and Ciranel are my own creation.**

 **Okay, go ahead and read!**

 **Review please!**

* * *

Linnor touched the pile of letters gingerly, afraid that any sort of pressure might cause these things to crumble into ash and dust. She had no idea how to begin. She raised the first letter up, and immediately recognized the light swoopy writing from when she was a child, and her dear friend Faolan would come to teach her her letters. This was her mother's first letter to her father.

* * *

 _Frerin Durin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain,_

 _Do you remember me? Do you recall my name as I recall yours? You called me your treasure, a beautiful ruby sparkling in a sea of diamonds. You are a surprising poetic dwarf, Frerin Durin, if anything. So, if you don't love me, pretend. In a short visit, in something so planned and normal, something unexpected happened. I gave you my heart. I write to ask you how you feel, Frerin Durin. For if I am simply another drop in your ocean, or if you give your love by the change of the weather, then I will not waste my time praying you and I might end up together. I do not expect much in response. That would be like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert. But Frerin, you hold my heart now. I tell you this as a courtesy. Be gentle._

 _Lady Ciranel, daughter of Lenoralith of Lord Elrond's court of Imladris_

* * *

Linnor gasped slightly at her mother's words. Even from the few words she had actually spoken, it was clear in her letter that Ciranel was in love with Frerin. Her mother had written to him to see if he felt the same. And even though she already knew the answer, Linnor took up the next letter eagerly.

* * *

 _Lady Ciranel, daughter of Lenoralith of Lord Elrond's court, Imladris,_

 _Recently, I have made a visit to your city of Imladris, and you are correct when you say something unexpected happened. I saw an angel, of that I'm sure. You gave me your heart, My Lady, and I gave you mine in return. I will not pretend to love you. Why would I, when I do love you? There is no question in my mind of this. My Lady, you're beautiful. You are beautiful, it's true. Words have always been my strong suit, whilst my siblings have their power and strength and pride. I prefer to speak on the paper on which I write. You asked me in your letter if you should bother hoping to be together. Hope. Lady Ciranel, I am lucky just to linger in your light. You have captured me swiftly in one lovely night of desire. Any longer, and it would delight me beyond ends. I barely can tell you what you do to me, even all these miles away, less than a month from our first meeting. You make me smile like the sun, I'm dizzy in the head and I feel like dancing like a fool. I forget how to breathe when I think of you, and I shine like gold at your memory. I love you. All I ask of you is that you let me._

 _Frerin Durin of Erebor_

* * *

Linnor smiled sadly at the sweetness of her father's words to her mother. Desperately, as if she needed the very ink as a source of air to breathe, Linnor took the next letter and the next into her hands, reading the correspondence between her parents like a sweet romance that she had read so many times far away in her towered library.

* * *

 _Frerin Durin of Erebor,_

 _Your letter has made this young elven girl swoon like a mortal woman. Your heart is gold. How am I the one you've chosen to love? Certainly there are dwarven women in your city eager to worship you, yet you set your eyes on me? I don't deserve your love. I told you that once before, on that night when we gave our hearts, and still you gave your love to me. I'm scared, if I must say it. I'm scared that I'm beginning to think that you're everything I need, Frerin, and I will explain why another time. But I wish to know, and I deserve to know, why? You loved me in the blink of an eye. Is that too bold for you and I?_

 _Lady Ciranel of Imladris_

 _Lady Ciranel,_

 _Truthfully, it is odd. I've got no use for moonlight, and certainly not sappy poetry. Love at first sight was always a thought for dreamers and Men. At least, it used to be. I never planned on you. But I am so happy I didn't. Please don't be scared. You deserve the stars and the moon and all of Middle Earth, and certainly not a dwarfish fool like me. Nothing is too bold in love. I know that much._

 _Frerin_

 _Frerin,_

 _I'm pregnant. I thought the best way would be to say it straightforward now. I should have told you in that very first letter, but I had to know some of your true feelings. In these past few days when I've seen myself, I seem like someone else. Can you imagine? Me, as a mother, and you, a father? What will that do to you and your family? Not to mention here with Lord Elrond. Don't you think it's rather funny I should be in this position? I'm alone, unmarried, yet in love and undoubtedly with child. Though it will be a few months before anyone else will be able to tell. You are my only lover, so the child is yours. I am so sorry to burden you with this knowledge. Who knows? When you read this, your feelings may change and you may find it lucky we are trapped so far apart._

 _Ciranel_

 _Ciranel,_

 _A baby. Our brief flare of love has made a baby. This love, it is a burning sun shining light on the things that we've done. And that is this child you hold now. You were correct in thinking I am angry, Ciranel, but not for the reason you assumed. I understand why you didn't tell me at the first, and I hope my letters thus far have convinced you of my feelings. But my anger and hurt lies with your assumption that I do not want to be a part of the child's life. You assume I am content to stay in my city, so many leagues away. Could these walls come crumbling down? We could leave behind this prison we share and step out and away into the open air. Ciranel, you and this yet to be named child are all I'd ever want, and one day will prove it to you. I wonder sometimes how could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine? I feel it in your letters, darling, for you've opened my eyes and I do my best to do the same to you in mine. Hold fast hope._

 _Frerin_

 _Dearest Frerin,_

 _Your letter has filled me with emotions I never knew existed except in books I read here. Oh, how I wish you and I were together, but you're on the other side of Middle Earth and thus I'm miles away from seeing you. I'm sitting here staring at the moon wondering if you can see the same stars that I see. Whatever you are doing now, stop and do this for me. Open and your eyes and see the way our horizons meet. Are you looking? I am. My heart believes that all of these stars will guide us home. Wherever that is, with you._

 _Ciranel_

 _Ciranel,_

 _It has been two months since my visit, and merely a month since you told me of this great new treasure in our lives. I am angry at time for moving so slowly and yet not slow enough for me. However, time has brought your heart to me, so I will rest. My Lady, my queen, before I met you, I honestly did not believe I would ever give my heart away. Even my brother had resigned himself to be alone. I have died everyday waiting for you. Now I know that my heart had simply been waiting for you. I have loved you for what seems a thousand years. I shall try and meet you again soon._

 _Frerin_

 _Frerin,_

 _These meetings of ours are becoming dangerous. My absence from Lord Elrond's court will not keep going unnoticed for long. We may have to confess our secret soon, at least to my Lord here in Imladris. I am not afraid though. Not anymore. I realized that when your soul finds the souls it was waiting for, you stop being afraid of trivial things, of fearing a consequence of something good. You know my heart by heart, love, and I know yours. We can handle anything that comes our way, including this child and Lord Elrond._

 _Ciranel_

 _Ciranel,_

 _Mahal, it's amazing how we've come this far. Everyday, we are closer to a family. I feel like we're chasing all those stars you mention time and time again. I have no reason, and no shame for what has happened so when the time comes, I will give all my secrets away to be with you. However, I know the risks for you are greater. A love as wild as ours is not exactly common lore. I know things may not end well, and I don't know why I am even writing and suggesting you try this if the time comes, and you will know it when it does. But I thought you should try and hate me. It might be better for everyone if you did. To be honest, it would certainly break me if you did. Ciranel, you aren't telling me everything. You hinted in your last letter. Is it the baby? Is it Elrond? You're hurting and you're trying to hide it. Please, let me feel as hurt as you. Whatever it is, just promise me you'll never let us go. I know something is coming, and soon. But I still have that hope of you and me together, with our baby. You may say I'm a dreamer, but it is such a good dream._

 _Frerin_

 _Frerin,_

 _Hate you? How could I ever? Here I am without you, now, and I feel so lost and confused and lonely, but what can I do? Certainly not hate you. But you were right. I have not been entirely truthful. The baby is fine. I can feel her a little more everyday. Yes, I said her. I have a feeling the child is a girl. But that is not what I was hiding. Elrond has asked to see me, and I know that he has noticed. I'm getting a little nervous as the baby grows. We are in two different worlds and soon we'll be bringing another life into both! I know our love seems real, but sometimes I still don't know how to feel. That dream you said you still have is also a close one of mine. So don't tell me to hate you. Tell me to stay. Stay._

 _Ciranel._

 _Ciranel,_

 _Do you remember our last meeting? We were supposed to spend our secret time together at the Carrock, halfway between our two homes when the skies opened up. We said goodbye in the pouring rain, and as you rode away, I had this urge to break down and just simply ask you to stay. You are right. I wish you could stay with me, or I with you. I will be riding out to be with you soon, especially if Lord Elrond knows. As for the baby, I think it's wonderful if it is a girl. A child just like her mother. Do you have a name?_

 _Frerin_

 _Frerin,_

 _Yes. I was thinking of the name Linnor, which means singer. I wish her to be musical and lovely and light and full of laughter and love. Linnor Alea. Elrond has arranged our meeting to be in two days. I wish you to be here by then. Frerin, do you realize that we were strangers once, starting out on a journey. I don't think either of us ever dreamed of what we'd have to go through. And now we're standing at the beginning of something. I cannot wait to see you._

 _Ciranel_

 _Ciranel,_

 _I had the week that came from hell. I am so sorry to have missed your meeting with Elrond. I am furious with myself, as you might be able to tell from my tone this letter. My only solace is that when I lose hope, you are there to remind me that this is the start of something. You are like the net under the ledge that catches me when I go flying off the edge. Please tell me what did he say? I will soon be coming to Imladris in any case. I will be there for you._

 _Frerin_

 _My love Frerin,_

 _I am away attending another meeting with the healer. I leave this on my pillow beside your head so that you do not wonder where I am. Lord Elrond has granted you an extended stay until the baby is born in a few days. He will not be so kind if he finds you wandering around the city alone. I had a dream the other night, about how we only get one life. It woke me up very early in the morning, but I stayed awake nonetheless and stared at you beside me. You have something I need, love, and now that you are here, you've given me more than I know what to do with. I cannot believe our good luck. While I understand the anger and humiliation he must feel, the mere fact that Lord Elrond has agreed to continue our secret, although he has called for Mithrandir to step in as council. I have no doubt that Lord Elrond will ask something dire of us once our daughter is born, but for now, we are together. I love you._

 _Your love, Ciranel_

 _My Ciranel,_

 _Lord Elrond and Gandalf the Grey have requested my presence in private, so I leave you this letter in case you worry. It is almost time, they say. I promise I will not leave before that time, nor will I leave soon after. I will fight to stay, even if Lord Elrond commands it. I cannot remember a time when I didn't fight for you. I want to come home to you, and if that must be here, than so it must._

 _Frerin_

 _Frerin,_

 _As I write this, I am watching you hold your newborn daughter, Linnor Alea Sathren Durin. This is more a journal page than a letter, but I address it to you nonetheless. She is here. Our daughter is here. I can't believe it. And Lord Elrond has granted you permission to stay until you must leave to meet again with your brother. But for now, I get lost in the beauty in everything I see. The world isn't half as bad as others have painted it to be. Our daughter will grow up loved and safe no matter where she is. Hopefully one day, the hate outside of our love will subside and she can explore the world in full. No matter where she goes, she will always come home to us._

 _Ciranel_

 _My dearest love,_

 _Are you lonely? Do you miss me anymore? It has only been a day since I had to return to Erebor, and now I'm without you and suddenly it's as if I'm insecure about all these little things. I miss you and Linnor terribly and hopefully I can see you again soon, but I have this feeling that it won't be quite as soon as we'd like. But I will hold onto these last two weeks so it will bring me back to you. Ciranel, I am not anything without you. I used to be a mighty prince of Erebor, but even my brother has seen the changes and teases me mercilessly to tell him my secrets. I have not revealed yet. Thorin and Father and Grandfather have been making plans. Something is stirring in the wind. I love you,_

 _Frerin._

 _My King,_

 _Linnor misses you. She looks around and wonders where you have gone. I fear that soon she will forget her father. You had me up to a place so high, and now I'm down on the ground and there's no one around. Others in the city have grown curious on Linnor's nature. Elrond has hidden her true identity from all of Imladris, and I fear that he will try and take her away from me to keep it that way. Sometimes I hear your name, like a whisper, and I don't know if it was real or if I had spoken myself, but every time, a smile creeps on my face. I love you, Frerin, more than you think I do. I love you, but I have that same feeling. I feel that now that you've left, you won't come back._

 _Your Queen_

 _My lovely Ciranel,_

 _I fell in love with a beautiful girl and she still takes my breath away. I fell in love in the morning sun while the hours slipped away. Never forget that. Something is wrong with my grandfather, Thror. He has been spending all his time in the treasury room, and Thorin, Dis, and I are worried. He is sick, and a sickness like this can only lead to destruction. It cannot be long now. I want you to know something. No one can choose who they fall for, or when they fall, or how they fall or why. I fell for you, Ciranel, by no control of my own, and I will wait for you for however long it takes to be with you again. Remember that, please. I love you. I love Linnor. Tell her that from me. Always. Now, I have to ask you to do something that I know I promised I would never ask. Ciranel, I want you to let me go. Stop holding on the way you are. I don't think I am coming back home to you and Linnor. If you don't let me go, I will only break your heart. Remember all that I have said.. Goodbye._

 _Frerin_

 _Frerin Durin,_

 _Everything was fine the way it was. I was content with only myself and my people. It was normal and ordinary. Then there was you, so randomly thrown into my life. No one can choose who they fall for. I certainly didn't plan to fall in love with you. I always told myself that, after my mother, I didn't need it anymore. But you changed me. So I will wait for you as well, love. Do not tell me to let you go. Never tell me that. Please, come back to us. Come back to us. Frerin, please. This is not the end. This is the beginning. Don't leave me._

* * *

Linnor paused after that letter. There was only one more in her hand, but unlike the previous pattern, this one wasn't written in her father's answering script. It was in her mother's handwriting again, and it wasn't so much of a letter as a journal entry. Linnor's heart clenched painfully as she realized what it was. Her mother had written this last paragraph right after the Battle of Moria. The battle where her father fought, and the battle where he fell.

* * *

 _How can I say this without breaking? How can I put it down into words when it's almost too much for my soul alone? I loved and I loved and I lost you. Frerin, I loved and I loved and I lost you. You survived Smaug and the journey after but it was Moria that claimed your life. I loved and I loved and I lost you. And it hurts like hell. It hurts like hell, love, so badly. I don't know how I can survive this alone. Linnor….I can't. Not for a while. I am placing her in Lord Elrond's care until I can try and be the mother you knew I could be. That I want to be for her. But I can't do that right now without you. You were right. You are never coming home. You broke my heart. I will always love only you, Frerin Durin, son of Thrain , son of Thror._

* * *

Linnr laid down that last piece of paper, her eyes unseeing. Her mother and father really did love each other. It was evident in the words they wrote to each other, he sweetness of the Elves and the surprising poetry of the Dwarves. And they had loved her, that was obvious as well. They could have been happy, as a family. But Fate had decided to step in and ruin everything.

There was a knock on her door, short and brief, and before Linnor could stand or call out or even compose herself, the door was pushed open to reveal a head of curly light brown hair, and a small figure slipped into the door.

"Bilbo." Linnor sighed.

"Linnor." The hobbit said sadly, his voice rough with emotion. "It is time for the funeral."


	65. Chapter 65: The Funeral

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the amazing reviews. A few of you have left me some song requests, so I will most likely add them into future chapters. However, first we must get through this next chapter.**

 **The songs below are:**

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Miserable

Thorin's Lament by Eurielle

May it Be by Enya

Bridge to the Other Side by Oliver and the Rememberalls

Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd

 **Get your tissues ready because this is going to be sad. I promise, though, that it will get happier in the next few chapters. Within reason, of course. Just to note that a few song lyrics have been changed to fit the story, but I do not own the actual songs. I am using the tunes and a few lyrics as inspiration for the scene.**

 **Review please and thank you!**

* * *

Fili stood in silence in a room that wasn't his. He could tell that it would have been – that it used to be. It was the room of a dwarfling child, a young princeling babe, fair-haired and future bright. Fili looked around with a sort of detachment at the topaz blue walls, the small bed with an iron frame, a small dresser filled with a babe's clothes, wooden toys scattered on the floor. His clothes, his bed, his toys. This was his home for the first five years of his life. It would have been his true home in Erebor. And Kili's.

Kili. Fili's eyes went to the other piece of furniture in his childhood room – a wooden crib. It was intricately made, and placed right at the foot of his own little bed. Kili hadn't been born yet when they fled the mountain (he was born about a month early, just after Dis got the news of their father's death) but this was proof that their mother and father knew they were expecting – and they knew Fili would love him more than his own life.

The thought of Kili – the raven haired babe that reached out to him, the toddling dwarf who followed after him, who called his name, who tried to be like his elder brother, who came running to him with his fears, his insecurities, who took everything to heart and pride – the thought of Kili burned him, and he couldn't breathe.

"There's a grief that can't be spoken." Fili whispered, his voice hoarse. He had cried painfully in private for the last several hours, knowing that he had to hold it together for the funeral later that night. "There's a pain goes on and on." Fili stepped further into the room, turning to take in every facet of his lost childhood. This was…so much to take in. This was where he and Kili could have lived their lives as they were supposed to, where they could have known their father, and their grandfather and great-grandfather, where Thorin could have balanced life as Prince and then as King, with being an uncle and they all would have been happy.

" _Empty chairs at empty tables_

 _Now my kin are dead and gone"_

There was a small window, too, facing out towards the far horizon. Fili imagined that he could see a small wisp of smoke out over the mountain ridges where he knew the Blue Mountains to distantly lay. It would be his mother's home, his home, and she would be sitting in their kitchen, or walking into the market to sell the beaded jewelry she had made, and wondering still about her brother and her two sons.

"Thorin talked of revolution." Fili said quietly. "His quest for was our refrain. We all sang about tomorrow…but for them, tomorrow never came."

He wondered briefly if he had been spending far too much time with his cousin, Linnor, but then another wave of despair shot through him and he couldn't help the words that fell from his lips like poisoned tears.

" _Oh, please, oh please forgive me_

 _That I live and you are gone_

 _There's a grief that can't be spoken_

 _There's a pain goes on and on_

 _Phantom faces at the window_

 _Phantom shadows on the floor_

 _Empty chairs at empty tables_

 _Where my kin will meet no more"_

Fili thought of the little wooden table back in his home where his mother waited, the four places set, the two largest for his mother and his uncle, a medium sized one for himself, and the child's chair for Kili, who had only just outgrown it by the time they had left. He had always been slight, his brother. Always on the smaller side, for a dwarf. Fili remembered the kids who used to bully Kili because he was smaller and far more daintier than any dwarf in the Mountains, and it wasn't until Thorin had agreed to train Kili as he was training Fili at the time did the bullying stop. Fili smiled, remembering the first time a dwarf teen named Birr had tried to take a swing at Kili, and his little brother had broken the boy's wrist in a half a second.

Kili had grown to be stronger than anyone else he knew. Thorin had made sure Kili could fight with all weapons, that he was learned right beside Fili in all the history and trades of their people. He said that Fili was the heir, but Kili was also a prince, and he would be proud of both of them for who they were. Thorin had always said that they would sit beside him in Erebor, that they would be his greatest treasure and legacy.

" _Oh my brother, my kin_

 _Don't ask me_

 _What your sacrifice was for._

 _Empty chairs at empty tables_

 _Where my kin will be no more"_

Fili took a heavy sigh as he finished, suddenly drained so much more than he expected. He thought of Linnor, who sang nearly constantly and who was expected to sing at the funeral tonight. It must be exhausting to be her. Fili made a mental note to talk to her later, simply be with her, his little cousin. There was a soft knock on the door, and Fili looked up to see Dwalin standing there gingerly.

"I thought I'd find you here, lad." The older tattooed dwarf took a step into the small child's room with the look of someone who was trying not to relay hard news. He had that tense, regretful aura to him, an awkwardness that belied whatever Fili was going to say in response. "This was your room, as you've no doubt gathered, and it was to be Kili's as well."

"Is there a reason you've come to find me, Dwalin?" Fili spoke, and while his voice was much quieter than he would have liked, he was proud of the fact that it was solid.

"Aye." Dwalin nodded, and there was that feeling of awkwardness again. "It's time for the funeral."

* * *

Linnor stood with her back straight, her eyes focused on the space of wall above the door that led into the burial room. The others were slowly trailing in, their heads bowed, their faces drawn in pain and sadness as they passed the still bodies of Thorin, Kili, and Ciranel. Linnor remained impassive. She would not break. At least, that was what she told herself until the next group of mourner came into the room.

Linnor knew that Fili was already enacting as King even though his official ceremony was tomorrow morning at the break of dawn. Already, he had declared the gates of Erebor open to all those who needed aid, or who wished to pay their respects to the fallen King and Prince of Erebor. Dain Ironfoot of the Iron Hills was here, along with his surviving people, to bow to his fallen cousin. The whole company, all of who escaped unscathed (Bifur had lost his axe, but besides from that, he was better than he had been from when they started) and Bilbo was still here. Gandalf, too, stood solemnly near the wall. And Linnor acknowledged them all with a nod of her own from where she stood on a higher platform slightly above the burial displays. But she stared as the next eight people entered the room.

The first two she saw was the Lady Galadriel, the imposing elven queen of Lothlorien gliding gently through the stone doorway. Her face was peaceful, if a bit sad, and she set her pitying gaze on Linnor, who bit her lip. Galadriel had saved her life out there on the battlefield. She had ensured that she lived. But Linnor almost wished she had died there, with her uncle and her cousin and her mother. If she died, she wouldn't have to live on in pain when she could be welcomed into the light by her father and her mother.

 _Dying is easy, my child. Living is harder._

Linnor blinked as The Lady's voice spoke gently in her mind before the elven woman moved to stand beside Gandalf. The next person who came in was Lord Elrond, and Linnor literally felt her heart tighten in her chest. That was the elf who had basically raised her, who had taken her in and had kept her safe from the world. Indeed, when he looked up to her, she could tell he was remembering all that he had done for her, all that he had done to protect her from this very evil in the world.

Next to enter the room were people she had never thought she would see again. For the first time that day, Linnor felt the beginnings of a grateful smile. Bard and his three children, Bain and Sigrid and Tilda, came quietly into the burial room. She could see the stunned fascination on Tilda's face as she took in the dead dwarfs and elf woman on the tables. Quickly, Bard laid a hand on his daughter's shoulder and guided her to a far corner of the room to pay their respects. Linnor watched them go, a mix of emotions warring inside her at the sight of the Laketown family. But that was nothing compared to the emotions wrought on her as she saw the next two people who came into the city's chambers.

It was King Thranduil, and by his side, his son, and her love, Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood court. Linnor's breath caught as her eyes met her elf love's and she had to look away quickly. She was about to break, and they hadn't even started yet. It was her job to honor her fallen kin with songs she had written for them, and she knew it wasn't going to be easy. Nothing ever was.

"Thank you all for coming." Fili's voice was low and soft, but it still echoed in the long room. Every one's eyes were drawn to the blonde prince, now King Under the Mountain, as he came to stand beside her. "Thank you for coming to pay your respects to the Durin line. My uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, rightful King Under The Mountain lies there, in the center. My brother, Kili of the Durin line, lies to the right there, and Ciranel of the Imladris court, who was married to Frerin Durin, and is my cousin's birth mother. Linnor Alea Sathren Durin is a true Princess of Erebor and she will lead in singing the praises and honors to each fallen member of my family."

Fili looked over at Linnor and nodded, as if giving her permission to begin. Linnor swallowed, suddenly very aware of the dozens of people, of the friends and family, the kin of the Durin line that had come to share in the sorrow of Thorin, Kili, and even, surprisingly, Ciranel's deaths. And she was now supposed to do them justice with her voice? She had never felt more inadequate than in this very moment.

Linnor walked slowly down off the platform where she and Fili were standing and she walked, numbly, over to where Kili lay peacefully. She reached out to touch a strand of hair that was out of place and tucked back into the braid that was set alongside his cheek. He looked so young.

" _I would walk a thousand miles_

 _Just to talk to you for a while._

 _So many things that I would say_

 _And to hear your voice and see your eyes on me_

 _I would build a bridge to the other side_

 _Just so I could spend a little time_

 _With you._

 _There would be no ifs, or compromise_

 _Kili, I am seriously missing you."_

Linnor knew that this song, this homage to Kili was shorter than it was meant, but she couldn't help it. She had started singing and suddenly her throat had closed and her eyes had watered and it had become too hard to get through anything she had prepared. It was Kili. Kili couldn't be dead. It wasn't something that had ever occurred to her…to any of them! Out of all of them, the entire company, it had never been Kili that they thought would be gone. And there was nothing more she could say to them other than she wished she could see him again…no matter what it took.

After she had composed herself, Linnor turned to the next table, avoiding all eye contact with the dozens of people watching around the room. A few of the company were coming forward to gather around Kili and to bow their heads in their own personal moments.

Thorin was next, and for some reason, the feeling was not quite the same as Kili. With Kili, his death seemed more than wrong. But Thorin…he had been prepared to die. He gave it everything he had, but at the same time…he had known that this might have been the outcome and he had been ready. Even in death, Thorin looed every bit a majestic king, the mighty warrior who had finally met his match and lost and now would forever be left in legend. Linnor opened her mouth and sang a different song, this one softer and higher, a melody that carried the sadness and the majesty his death deserved.

" _Thorin, King Under The Mountain_

 _Alas no more shall rule this domain_

 _We brethren must go on without him_

 _And ensure his death was not in vain_

 _In sleep eternal he will rest_

 _With the Arkenstone upon his breast_

 _Which evermore shall emit its light_

 _To banish the darkness of unending light_

 _And on his tomb is Ocrist laid_

 _An Elven blade forged in Elder Days_

 _To warn of foes and roving orcs_

 _And ward off all evil from Erebor_

 _How shall we remember our fallen friend?_

 _Who conquered Dragon Sickness in the end?_

 _A warrior, leader, a proud flawed king?_

 _A worthy descendant of mighty Durin_

This time, Linnor managed to make it through the whole song, but she could not prevent the silent streams of tears that had fallen down her cheeks. The last lingering note seemed to reverberate in the room, shimmering like a silver gleaming ray of light. Linnor was breathing hard, and the hardest was yet to come. As she moved away from Thorin's place, letting the company members come gather around their fallen king, she made her way to where her mother lay.

Her mother. Ciranel. Fili had asked the Eagles to find her, and now she was being laid to rest in the home of her beloved, in the home of her daughter. It was a great honor, Linnor realized, an honor reserved for mighty warriors and the kin of the royal line. This was being done for her.

" _May it be the shadows call_

 _Will fly away_

 _May it be your journey on_

 _To the light of day_

 _When the night is overcome_

 _You may rise to find the sun"_

This was a lullaby from long ago, when her mother had simply been her dear friend Faolan, and she would come and sing to her as a child when she had a hard time falling asleep. Linnor had no idea why it had come to her now of all times, but it seemed an appropriate way to say goodbye.

" _Mornie utulie_

 _Believe and you will find your way_

 _Mornie alantie_

 _A promise lives within you now"_

Linnor finished her song, still looking at her mother's still form. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but she couldn't bring herself to turn and face whoever it was who was trying offer her comfort. Instead she turned away from them, away from her mother, away from the watchful eyes of those who stood mournfully around the room. She walked back up to the platform where her cousin still stood, and Fili reached out to touch her cheek as she came to stand by him. His eyes were glassy, and she knew that he would cry if he were able. But they couldn't cry. They were the face of Durin, now.

"I saw the light fade from the sky." Fili said softly, yet the scho was sent through the room. "On the wind I heard a sigh. As the snowflakes cover my fallen brother I will say this last goodbye."

Linnor took that as her cue to close the funeral. This was it. This was their last goodbye to Kili, descendent of Durin, Ciranel, wife to Frerin Durin and mother to Linnor Alea Sathren Durin, and lastly Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain son of Thror.

" _Night is now falling_

 _So ends this day_

 _The road is now calling_

 _And I must away_

 _Over hill and under tree_

 _Through lands where never light has shone_

 _By silver streams that run down to the sea_

 _Under cloud, beneath the stars_

 _Over snow one winter's morn_

 _I turn at last to paths that lead home_

 _And though where the road then takes me_

 _I cannot tell_

 _We came all this way_

 _But now comes the day_

 _To bid you farewell_

 _Many places I have been_

 _Many sorrows I have seen_

 _But I don't regret_

 _Now will I forget_

 _All who took the road with me_

 _To these memories I will hold_

 _With your blessing I will go_

 _To turn at last to paths that lead home_

 _And though where the road then takes me_

 _I cannot tell_

 _We came all this way_

 _But now comes the day_

 _To bid you farewell."_

"I bid you all a very fond farewell." Linnor murmured, and then finally, turned into Fili's embrace and let a few silent tears slip out.


	66. Chapter 66: The Laketown Family Returns

**A/N: Back again! Did you miss me? Okay, it hasn't been that long, but still. Anyways, it's only a few more weeks until graduation and then I'll have the whole summer to update and finally finish this story. We're not that close, but it's coming.**

 **The songs (lyrics) below are:**

No Good In Goodbye by The Script

Days in the Sun from Beauty and the Beast

Live Like Your Loved by Hawke Nelson

Run and Tell That from Hairspray

Somebody Out There by A Rocket To The Moon

Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford and Sons

Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney

 **Please enjoy, and remember that I do not anything except Linnor. Remember to review!**

* * *

It seemed like an age, but eventually the mourners along the wall came forward to say their goodbyes. Linnor felt, rather than saw, Fili release her and step away, leaving to go talk with his company and the elven royalty. Bard, too, stood with them. She wondered why, but vaguely through the numbness that was closing in around her pain.

"Linnor."

She turned at the sound of her name and saw three children standing anxiously at the bottom step of the platform, although they were hardly children anymore, were they? If you survived a war such as this, did you, or your soul, really escape unscathed?

"Bain." She tried to smile, but she was so very tired. It took effort just to turn her head. "Sigrid, Tilda. It's all right. You may come up." Linnor knew she certainly didn't have the energy to move right now. If she tried to walk, Linnor was almost positive her legs would give out and she would fall flat on her face. It was easier if they came to her – and besides, she was the Princess. Let anyone try and give her a hard time, especially right now. Sigrid and Bain cautiously climbed the steps, both looking as awed as she had when she faced Lady Galadriel. Tilda, however, had no qualms whatsoever and ran straight to meet her, tears streaming down her small face. The little girl ran right up to Linnor, nearly bowling her over as she wrapper her arms around her waist, squeezing with a surprising amount of force.

"I'm so sorry, Linnor." Tilda's words were muffled by the layers of Linnor's dress, but the older girl knew instinctively what was being said. She wrapped her hands gently around the girl's head, feeling her soft braids. "I know what it is like to lose a mother. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Da too and you have almost nobody now. No Mama and no Da. I mean, you have your cousin and your princess and everything but I'm sorry still cause you lost people you loved. And I really did like your cousin. He was nice. "

"Tilly." Sigrid chided softly, pulling her little sister off of the Princess of Erebor. "Step back and let Her Highness breathe."

"It's okay." Linnor nodded kindly to her and then at the youngest Laketown girl. "I see you've taken my advice, Tilda, from so long ago. You're a lot bolder than when we met last. Stronger, too." And she really was – Tilda was no longer that sad, passive girl dressed in grey and just hoping to get by to the next day and the next. This girl before her, while bearing the same name, hardly looked like herself any more. She was bright-eyed, standing tall, clearly changed from having lived through this past evil, but instead of tearing her apart, it seemed to have made her more confidant, more mature than she was before.

Bain and Sigrid, too, while worn out, looked different. Both held themselves with the air of those who could not be broken because there was nothing worse than what they had already survived. It was the look and the air of warriors, of the brave. Linnor's earlier thought had been correct – they were not children anymore.

"I'm tired of covering up my pride." Tilda said, raising her head up just a little bit higher. "Da even said I got a new way of moving, and thanks to you, I've got my own voice. No one calls me a silly little girl, or a baby. I know things now. Like I know Thorin promised us money, and I know King Fili will honor that now, but after all this, I figure we got a spirit that money just can't buy. It's deep as – as a river and it soars, like the Eagles, to the sky." Tilda finished speaking, the words far more eloquent than what Linnor had been expecting, and clearly, more than what Tilda had been meaning to say. Her face flushed a deep marron, and she ducked her head back down in pleased embarrassment.

"That was lovely, and well spoken, Tilda." Linnor said. "You have a way with words. It is quite a gift. You have the chance to create things with your voice, with the words you say. It is your own form of magic in this world, a good kind of magic. Do not lose that, even in these dark days."

"Do you think…do you think we'll ever have days in the sun again? Days without all the war and screaming and sadness and crying? Like we used to? Tilda asked, her voice smaller now as she looked back at her siblings. Suddenly, the brave girl was gone, replaced by a frightened eight year old child.

"Oh, Tilda." Sigrid sighed. "I swear to you, if I could undo what's been done and bring back the light, I would. I would in a heartbeat. So would Bain, and so would Da."

"How in the midst of all this sorrow," Linnor said softly, almost to herself, "can hope and love even endure? Days in the sun will eventually return, Tilda, but we must believe that they will, first. It will be a lot of hard work, but they will come shining through in the end."

"You speak as wisely as when we first met." Bard's voice came to join them, and the Man stood behind his children, one hand in Sigrid's hair, the other drawing Tilda to his side. Bain merely took a step closer to his father until their shoulders were touching. It was a shockingly intimate tableau, and it hurt Linnor to even watch them gather around each other.

"Bard." Linnor nodded to him respectively. "It was good of you to come to this."

"There is no "good" in "goodbye"." Bard said bitterly. "Like there is no "soul" in "solider on" yet that is what we must do anyway. No matter how it falls apart, there is never anything "fair" in "farewell". But, Valar, if I could turn back time, I'd rewrite all that has happened and spare you all this pain."

"You are a poet, too, Bard." Linnor smiled, almost for real this time.

"No." he smiled back. "I am simply a hopeless wanderer. Far from the legend Dunedan to be sure, but one nonetheless. I've just learned to love the skies I am under."

"How?" Linnor muttered, and for an instant, she looked away towards the identical silver blonde heads that stood away from her, down the platform, and talking to Fili, Gloin, Balin, Gandalf, and Lord Elrond.

"Live like you're loved already in this world." Bard said. "Whether you have loved ones or not, living like you know someone loved you, or does love you, is key to accepting where you are in life. You know you are loved, Linnor, so go ahead and act like you've been set free. Like your heart has been set free from the cage you've put it in these last however many years. I live like I'm loved and I walk like I'm free. That is all I can say for myself and my family. And do you know? I am happy.

Linnor thought about it. There was no doubt in her mind that Fili loved her, and that Kili had loved her, and Thorin had certainly shown her tender affection. Her father had loved her before she had ever known him, and before he had ever really known her. And her mother…she had lied to her for all her life, and yet…she had stayed by her side, trying to mend what was broken and in the end, had saved her life. Yes, Ciranel had loved her. And Legolas…he loved her in a way that was different than all the others. Not better, necessarily, but wild and new and perfect all the same.

"Thank you, Bard." Linnor said softly, and her eyes met his, and she saw the softness, the sincere tenderness with which he looked at his own children. "I mean it. Your kindness will be repaid sevenfold. Do not be strangers to us here in Erebor, for you and your children and their children and their children's children will always be welcome."

Bard said nothing more, but she knew that he understood and he was touched by the way he gripped his daughters to him, and turned to walk back down the platform steps.

Bain, however, his eldest son, stayed where he was. Linnor noticed that he looked nervous, almost pained, and he hadn't yet spoken this whole exchange.

"Bain?" Linnor said, looking at him in concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Linnor," he started, and his voice cracked, causing him to blush. "I, um, well, Lady, I know that you are very much – well, you are capable, sure, but you are also alone, here, without a Man to turn to. Not to say that you need a Man of any sort to be happy, but –"

Linnor did not know what to say. She stood staring at Bain as he fumbled his words, her eyes wide with shock, and, she realized, her mouth was hanging wide open. Quickly, she shut it with an awkward snap.

"Now, you might need time to think it over." Bain hurried on. "But I think you need to know that you are something special, to me. I have been fascinated with you ever since you stopped in to our home in Laketown. Ever since I heard you sing, I thought you were lovely. And more than appearance. Much more. You have a – a beautiful soul, Linnor." He finally looked up at her, taking in her appalled face, an, perhaps misreading it or even reading it correctly, he suddenly flushed with embarrassment and hurt.

"Um…" Linnor said, unsure.

"Of course, you probably think I am some wet-behind-the-ears kid and I should have listened to Sigrid and kept my fat mouth shut." He turned away from her and Linnor shook herself out of her shock. She reached out and stopped the boy before he left the platform, forcing him to turn and face her again.

"Bain," she kept her voice gentle, though she could not hold out the sadness and pity. " You are very sweet. But I fear that your heart is misplaced. I am not alone. Those I love are with me, in life and in death. I have accepted that. It gives me great comfort actually."

"I'm sorry." Bain muttered, ducking his head.

"No, Bain." Linnor hushed. "I gave you no indication that I would refuse your offer. It was kind and well meant. But you should know two things. First, despite how I look, I am older, much much older, than you. I am nearing seventy, and because of my parents and their heritage lines, I merely look like a young girl and I am no doubt set to live a very long time yet. Longer than you could hope."

"And the second thing?" Bain asked.

"There's somebody out there who's waiting for you. Someday you will find her. I swear that it's true. You will give your heart happily and wholly to someone who can do the same, and it will be for the right reasons. But I am not that girl."

Bain raised his head and looked at her, but his gaze was clear of hurt. He gave half of a genuine smile, and this time, Linnor let him go to where his father and sisters were waiting. As he left, Linnor turned to look at the other left in the room – and found herself face to face with King Thranduil of Mirkwood.

And he was not pleased.


	67. Chapter 67: One Heart

**A/N: Another chapter for all you loyal readers. Thranduil is not happy with the two love birds…..what will happen now?**

 **The songs below are:**

If You Knew My Story from Bright Star

Somewhere Only We Know from Glee

Ever Enough by A Rocket To The Moon

Because You Live by Jesse McCartney

 **Once again, a general reminder that I do not own these songs and I do not own the Hobbit. Linnor is my own character.**

 **Please review!**

* * *

"My Lady Linnor." Thranduil's voice was silky smooth, his face a mask that hid every emotion, leaving him a blank slate of cool, polished youth. But his eyes – his eyes were dark and stormy, filled with an anger that was oddly misplaced here, at the memorial of her family.

Linnor remembered the last time she was this close to the King of the Mirkwood Elves. She had still been a sort of prisoner among his kingdom, spending her days with members of the guard and with Legolas, while her family was kept in cells. The King had been cold and detached, even to his own son. Linnor remembered wondering what was worse – never knowing a father, but knowing that you were loved, or having a father, but always unsure about his love for you.

"My King Thranduil." Linnor acknowledged him in return, trying to keep her face impassive. She felt like she was on the losing end of a competition that she never wanted to enter. But she kept her face as clear as the King's before her, knowing that any move she made would be greatly judged, and clearly, he was in no mood for banter. "What can I do for you?"

Thranduil took a step closer to her and Linnor craned her neck to continue looking him in the eyes. Despite her mother being en elf, Linnor had inherited her father's dwarfish genes, her stature as small and stout as the rest of the company's. Perhaps she was an inch or two on the taller side, but it wasn't like it made any real difference. Thranduil took another step and Linnor's neck cracked painfully as she tilted it further back. He was now standing very close, so close that she could not see around him – her eyes were full of his golden-silver armor reflecting in his white gold hair. Strange white diamonds were clutched in his hand, and a light traveling cloak rested on his shoulders.

"I would like to speak with you. Privately." Thranduil said softly, but much like their first meeting, the sound of his voice seemed to rattle her skull. Linnor grit her teeth and stood her ground. She was no longer that unknown girl lost in something far bigger than her. She was a Princess. She was a Durin.

"We can speak here well enough." She said simply, never moving her gaze from his. After a very long time, during which Linnor's face had begun to burn with the effort of not betraying any emotion whatsoever, he nodded to her.

"Very well." Thranduil straightened up and only now Linnor realized that he had been bent towards her, overshadowing her. "I came to talk to you of my son, Legolas."

"Legolas?" Whatever she had been expecting (payment, homage, debts owed), it had not been that he would wish to talk to her about Legolas, Prince of the Mirkwood Elves. Son of King Thranduil before her. The elf she had not long ago giver her very heart to. "What about him?" Another thought suddenly struck her. "Where is he? I saw him enter with you shortly before."

"Yes." Thranduil said with pursed lips, this time the anger breaking through to his steely voice. "He is speaking to one of the dwarf men. Gloin or something crass like that. He said they had old business to attend to, some sort of apologies to be reckoned, though I can hardly think of any situation where talking to folk like that would be warranted as such –"

"What is this really about, Lord Thranduil?" Linnor snapped.

"Legolas has informed me that you and he have given each other your hearts."

Linnor froze. This whole time she had been asking herself why the King could be so enraged. What would possibly warrant him approaching her at the memorial of her kin with any sort of grievance? Linnor had been prepared to ward off remarks of her heritage, or of the payment that was certainly due to the Elves after all this time. She figured he would be miffed, at the least. But she saw the raw, fearful anger in his expression, his eyes, the tension in his body underneath the royal garb…and she had wondered what it was that had wound him up so. Linnor had thought that nothing but respect would warrant their appearance here, and perhaps the anger was for the death and carnage. But no….secretly giving her heart to his son, and finding out that the sole heir to the Mirkwood Kingdom had done the same for her, the half-bred daughter of Dwarf King and an elven handmaiden….now that would warrant the King's anger.

"You know that of our kind, and of yours, we have only one heart to give to any significant other.' Thranduil continued, somewhat gentler than he had begun. " When we love, it is forever. There is no second falling. " Although he was careful with the words he chose, Linnor could see the raw pain underneath his mask, and she remembered Legolas telling her, once, that his father had not been the same since his mother, the Queen, was murdered by orcs on a family outing a few centuries ago, give or take a few.

Though she did not wish to, Linnor could not help a small pang of pity for the ageless King. Heartbreak was a very heavy burden to bear, no matter if you were grown or still a child. She wondered if that was when he had closed himself off, distancing himself from his only son, so as to perhaps protect them both from heartbreak, not realizing he was only damaging both their hearts more.

"I know." Linnor said at last. "Your son knows that as well. That is the problem with love, I suppose, isn't it? You can love who you want, and so can they. In a way, we simply fell and that was that. But it was also our choice, and not one we made lightly. If I had thought that your son – or if he had thought of me-"

"And therein lies the root of my anger." Thranduil sighed. He suddenly looked very tired, and less like a King and more of a worried father. "You have seemingly come from nowhere, Linnor. Yes, there are plenty of rumors and speculation, but nothing real and factual to satisfy all that I need to know before any sort of commendable courtship can be placed. I do not know you, Linnor, except that you claim to be a Durin and you show a knack for escaping any place meant to hold you. No one knows your story. And that worries me."

"My story?" Linnor laughed sharply, so suddenly that she surprised not only Thranduil, but also herself. "If you knew my story, King, you'd I was lying. It is that… imaginative; I would say is the word. If you knew my story, my heaven and my hell, then," Linnor laughed again. "well, you'd have a good story to tell, at least."

"Really." Thranduil mused.

"Really. Unfortunately, it is indeed a very, very long story to tell, My Lord, starting long before I was ever even born. Perhaps another time, at your leisure, I can tell you everything you wish to know. But for now, you will have to trust that I know what I am doing. And so does your son."

Thranduil stared at her for a few minutes more, and then – he smiled. It was a real, genuine smile, and it was startling at how much that changed the King before her. The frozen exterior melted away, and Linnor saw a glimpse of the elf behind the King, the father that Legolas had known and loved, and who had loved him tenderly in return.

"Dear girl," he said gently, "you will be very good for Legolas, I think."

"Ada." Legolas's musical lilt came from behind Thranduil's tall frame, and the King stepped sideways to reveal his son, who was smirking and there was a light glint of amusement in his blue eyes. "Ada."

"Ah, Legolas. There you are." Thranduil reached out his arms and pulled his son to him. Linnor saw the spark of surprise in her love's face, but he quickly wrapped his arms around his father, perhaps reveling in the first time in a century that he was being held. After a moment , he and his father let go, each stepping back to look at the other. With a silent nod of understanding, Thranduil turned away and Linnor watched him pass elegantly through the thin crowd and out of the chamber hall altogether. She turned to Legolas, her heart suddenly deciding to start back up again, and it flitted erratically against her rib cage.

'If you have a minute, " Legolas whispered, "why don't we go somewhere only we know?"

"I wish." Linnor sighed, reaching for his hand. Their thin fingers intertwined delicately. "But I have things I must take care of with my family here. Fili is still a mess, and the others…"

"What about you?" Legolas pressed. "You are not as okay as you pretend to be. "

"I never said I was pretending to be okay." Linnor said bitterly. "I'm not. I dreadfully tired. All I really want to do is sleep for a hundred years or more or however long it takes until I can finally feel as if I've managed to rest."

"Then take your time. Your cousin will understand."

"Don't leave." Linnor gripped his hand harder, suddenly filled with the fear that Legolas was trying to ease into another goodbye. She had just gotten him back. The sudden shock of that thought ran through her. He was alive. Legolas was alive. He was here with her and he was alive. Legolas must have seen her face crumble, or maybe it was her knees, because all of a sudden his arms were around her, and he was the only thing keeping her from collapsing completely onto the ground.

"No. No I am never going to leave you, my darling." Legolas hushed her, and he rubbed slow circled on the back of her neck, trying to help her quell the trembling that seemed to run through her limbs. "I'm never going to go. I'm here, holding onto you. I am yours, remember, forever and more. I am not leaving you."

"Stay here." Linnor whispered. "Stay in one of the bedrooms. Stay with me."

"Linnor," Legolas said softly with a hint of hesitancy, "are you sure…?"

"Legolas, I am so much stronger when I am with you. Especially now. I think it's been that way ever since I met you. You fix what's been broken. Because you live and breathe, love, and you make me believe in myself. You love me because you want to, because you feel the same as I. My world has twice as many stars in the sky with you in it."

Legolas didn't say anything, but instead, he clutched her closer to his chest, pressing her face into the soft fabric of his tunic, and he rocked her back and forth as she trembled.


	68. Chapter 68: Dreams Are Memories

**A/N: I'm super stressed so here is another chapter that I wrote in my ever ongoing anxiety.**

 **The songs below are:**

I Can't Wait from Bright Star

More To The Story from Shrek the Musical

When I Stop Crying by JT Hodges

 **I recommend listening to the last song listed, as well as his other music. He's a country singer, but believe me, he is fantastic.**

 **Anyways, I don't own anything at all except my very own character, Linnor.**

 **The reviews have slowed down a lot, guys. I'm a little disappointed. I know this story is insanely long, but please bear with me. I look forward to each and every review. So keep it up!**

* * *

 _Ciranel sat in a rocking chair, set just outside the balcony doors. Behind her, the beautiful golden tower room where her dearest love, and the father of her unborn child, lay sleeping still in the soft bed. Ciranel still could not believe how kind Lord Elrond was being, allowing Frerin to stay in Imladris until their child was born, and to stay indefinitely beyond that. Her peaceable king had even bestowed them with a gift of well being, as was custom for elven births – a cradle, decorated in blue with gold designs detailing in fine art the story of the elves and the beauty of Imladris._

 _It was a lovely gift, and while Ciranel suspected that perhaps Gandalf the Grey had convinced the Elven Lord to embrace what was already said and done instead of fighting it, it was still touching._

 _The elven handmaiden sighed, listening to the vague sounds of the flute and harp playing somewhere in the distant palace. She leaned a little further and looked out over the edge of the balcony – it faced inwards to the city. There was the gentle calm of the palace courtyard, with the trickling fountain there in the center, and the array of trees (the bond of every elf) swaying in the lightest breeze that came down off the waterfall near the Hidden Pass. It was a delicate spot, and a little isolated from the rest of the city. But it was perfect for her, and Frerin, to reside while they waited these last few weeks._

 _Ciranel passed a hand over her stomach, now large and unbalancing with the weight of the baby of nearly eight and a half months. She felt the smooth roundness of her belly, and marveled that this was who she was now, when such a sort time ago, she had been simply part of the Rivendell court, nothing more than a lady in waiting to her friend and sovereign Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond._

"My baby." _Ciranel whispered, and a goofy smile broke out on her face just at those two little words. She was having a baby. She and Frerin. She'd be a mother in only a few days, maybe a week, and he would be a father. It was incredible._

 _She knew that everyone (meaning Lord Elrond, Mithrandir, and Frerin to some extent, seeing as no one else in all of Middle Earth knew of the circumstances of her pregnancy, or even that she was pregnant), they all were worried of the outcome of the child. Ciranel was a pureblood elf, and Frerin, a solid dwarf. Though mixed race pairings were not totally unheard of, they were not common enough occurrence for it to be accepted, especially if the child born out of it was a mix of both parents, whatever they might be. It would seem that ancient prejudices still held solid through the years. It would not have been so bad if a Dwarf and a Woman had paired, or perhaps and Elf and Man, for things would not stand out so much in the cities of Man, where people came of all shapes and sizes. But Elves were one thing, and Dwarves another. Their races were on total opposites of the spectrum where fitting in was concerned. Would their child be fully elfish, or fully dwarfish, or perhaps an odd mix of them both?_

 _Elrond had mentioned, briefly, that it might be best for the child to go with the parent he or she most resembled after they were born and raised to a year. Ciranel knew that part of the pregnancy was rampaging hormones, which turned her normally docile demeanor into something fierce, but she could not fault the mood swings entirely for her absolutely volatile reaction at her sovereign for even remotely suggesting that her child be taken from her._

 _Perhaps the cradle was an apology, showing that Elrond knew he was remiss in his thinking. No matter. She would never abandon her baby, and she would never wish Frerin to be without his son or daughter._

 _A small kick came from underneath her hand where it rested on her stomach, and Ciranel smiled down at herself._

"Hello there, little one. Still awake? Hm, just like your mother now, aren't we?" _Another kick, and Ciranel laughed._ "How about a lullaby, then, baby? Learn your mother's music early now."

"Mmm my mmm my baby

I can't wait to see you

Mmm my mmm my baby

I can't wait to see you"

 _Ciranel had told Frerin already, in a letter months ago, that she had this feeling, an instinctual level, that the baby was a girl. She didn't really know if what she felt was actually true. Ciranel knew that sometimes the Fair Folk had dreams and visions that were true, that they showed things that would come to pass, or that had already happened in their life, or even before them. But feelings of the not yet known? Ciranel didn't want to place bets on something like that. It could be a girl, or it could still be a boy. Either way, she would love whatever she had in the end._

"If you're like your daddy

Handsome, strong and true"

 _Ciranel sang, trying to imagine a little dwarfling boy, maybe with hints of elf here and there in his features, laughing and playing and running through the courtyard, perhaps learning his first weapon, learning to ride a horse across the plains of Imladris, swimming in the waterfall._

 _The vision was not altogether bad. It was very pleasant in fact. But something wasn't right. Ciranel felt her rounded belly again, and closed her eyes, thinking of her child as the baby girl. Linnor. Her name would be Linnor, she had said that once or twice before. Her sweet baby girl._

"What are you doing out here, love?"

 _Ciranel turned at the sound of Frerin's gravely voice, rougher with sleep. He leaned against the doorframe in nothing but his trousers, and as he wiped the bleariness from his eyes, Ciranel let her eyes roam over his muscled body, how taught his shoulders were, how his hair hung down like a mane behind him, the burns and callouses patterned like swirled tan lines. Ciranel took him in hungrily, and when her eyes finally met his, she looked back unabashedly and grinned cheekily. Frerin grinned in return as he came over to where she sat and rested his large rough palm over where she still had her hand. He leaned over to kiss her cheek tenderly, and then he leaned down to her stomach, and he began to sing to the baby, like she had done moments before._

"I can't wait to meet you

And shake your little hand

If you're like your mama

You'll make me a happy man

I'm gonna make you a promise

To love you for all time

I'm gonna make you a promise

To keep your hand in mine"

 _Frerin leaned over and kissed the round of her belly gently, then looked up to meet Ciranel's teary eyes._

"That promise is for both of you." _he said._

* * *

"Where is he? What's happened?" _Ciranel begged Lord Elrond as he entered her bedchamber. She held Linnor to her chest tightly, enough to warrant a reprimanding squall from the baby girl, who had barely turned ten months old. She was a pretty things, with clear elfish features, yet with certain dwarfish traits that made her look almost like a child of Man than a blend of any other race. Frerin had jokingly asked if he was her only consort._

 _Frerin. The one she had pledged her heart to. He had left only two weeks before, saying that he had urgent matters with his family, his brother and his grandfather back in Erebor that he could not just ignore or refuse. He had to leave. But he had promised…he had promised….._

 _The city of Imladris was not so far into their own lovely little bubble tat they hadn't heard the dragon's roars, or that they hadn't heard the war horns further into the mountains where Moria lay. Ciranel knew…she knew that Frerin wouldn't abandon his family. Either family. So she had asked, begged, pleaded Elrond to send scouts, to ask and search for her beloved and bring him home._

 _And now Lord Elrond stood before her….._

"No…" _Ciranel moaned, and she held her daughter tighter to her, causing Linnor to cry out in pain._ "No, please. Not Frerin. Not him. Not the father of my little girl."

"Ciranel, you're hurting her." _Someone's voice called to her from afar. She was drifting in an endless tunnel of darkness. She was hardly aware of someone prying her grip from her infant daughter, taking her from her arms and out the door. She could hardly muster the energy to call after her._

"Linnor…no, where are you taking her? She is all I have left –"

"Ciranel." _Lord Elrond spoke firmly, but with a pitying sadness._ "You must grieve for the love that you lost. You will do no good to your little girl in your current state. Rest. Heal. In time, you will be alright. You have my word that I will take care of your daughter, Linnor, until the time comes when you can face her again."

 _But when will that be? Ciranel closed herself off then, bleeding her very heart wrenching pain of losing her one true heart._

"I lived my life by the book of a fairytale." _Ciranel whispered to herself in the dark, or maybe it was to Mahal or Valar or whatever great being looked down on them, guided them, destroyed them._ "I always thought that… I always knew that there would be dangers and enemies against my happy endings. I never thought my heart would be so cruelly….beaten."

"There's more

More to the story

What you're so fondly told

Isn't always so

There's more

More to the story

Now I know."

 _After a long, long time, Ciranel managed to heal her heart. It seemed an eternity to her, but in reality, it had merely been a few years. She had lost herself so deep in grief that she had nearly forgotten the one thing she had left in the world – Linnor._

"Where is she?" _Ciranel asked Elrond._

"In the golden tower." _He said slowly._ "But, Ciranel…it has been a long time. Even in her short years, she has already begun to forget your face. She hardly knew her father's. If you tell her who you are, it may raise questions that contradict the answers we have already given to her. Perhaps it's better that you stay away."

"No!" _Ciranel was shaking. She could not leave her little girl all alone. She would do whatever it took to be with her, even if it couldn't be in the way she had dreamed._ "I won't tell her who I am. But please…she is my girl. She is all I have left of Frerin."

 _After a long pause, Elrond finally nodded, and Ciranel prepared herself to meet her daughter after all this time. But she wouldn't be her mother. No, she would be a friend instead. Everyone needed a friend in the world, especially one this big and cruel and lonely._

 _Ciranel was gone. In her place, was Faolan._

* * *

Linnor awoke with a start, feeling very strange. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and then another moment to actually remember who she was.

"Linnor?"

She was lying atop her father's bed again, in a room that was almost pitch dark. Sitting across from her was Legolas, his ice blue eyes peering down at her in concern.

"Linnor, are you alright? You woke with a frightful start."

Linnor ran her fingers through her tangled mess of hair, trying to wrap her mind around what had been the most bizarre dream she had ever had. It had been her mother…and her father…and Lord Elrond, even. But it was before she was born, and everything had seemed so real. She pressed the base of her hands into her eyes, trying to quell the streams of tears that had begun to leak out. She couldn't cry. She had no reason to! These were things she had no real memories of.

She felt long, tender arms wrap themselves around her, and she leaned into the comfort that was her one love. Linnor felt her body relax into him, and she started talking, without really realizing that she was in the first place.

"It was so strange. I saw my mother…but it was almost as if I was her, and I was thinking and feeling all she did in the moment….she was pregnant with me and singing and then my father was there and singing with her on a balcony – my balcony in my room in Imladris. And then – then it changed and she was crying….she found out my father was killed and I was taken away and she was so upset…."

"Linnor," Legolas said quietly, hushing the rapid flow of her words. "It's alright."

"No." Linnor shook her head. "Not it is not. I felt everything she did. It was so real to me, Legolas. Nothing has ever hurt me this bad. Nothing has ever hit me this hard. It was like I was drowning in every terrible emotion she did. I mean, was this how she felt? Not being able to be with me as a mother for so long? Knowing the truth, knowing that Frerin was never coming home to her and that I thought she was someone else and basically having no one?"

"This was a vision. A vision of the past." Legolas spoke. "I have heard of others who have been visited by these dreams. They are meant to help you understand, not to hurt you."

Linnor pulled into herself even more, and Legolas tightened his hold on her. She thought about what she had dreamed, the utter loneliness and utter heartbreak after so much joy and love that had been there only moments before in her mother's life.

It was the same as what she was going through. Linnor's eyes widened at the realization. It was the same for Fili, and for her, and for everyone who had lost the one they had claimed to love. Her dream was only meant to inform her of that. That pain was a common thread among them.

The trick was not letting that pain consume you for so long that you continued to lose everything.

Linnor shot up out of her lover's arms and ran to the door. As she reached it, she turned to look again at Legolas, who was still sitting, stunned, in the center of the bed. With the flash of a brief smile, Linnor sent to him all of her love and joy and pain, and his eyes widened as he received that powerful message in just a glimpse of her face.

Linnor realized that she had to stop crying and try to spread these broken wings of hers until she started flying like she used to. Only then could she heal sooner rather than later.

Then she was out the door, in search for someone who needed to know what she did before it was too late.


	69. Chapter 69: Evermore

**A/N: And another chapter down! Guys, I graduate high school in a week. In five days, I will officially be a high school graduate and a soon to be college freshman. Oh God. That's a scary thought. Also, three weeks until my 18** **th** **birthday! I'm growing up so fast.**

 **Anyways…. the songs below are:**

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by The Cab

Sun Is Gonna Shine from Bright Star

You Can't Stop The Beat from Hairspray

Evermore from Beauty and the Beast

 **Thanks so much to everyone for the follows, the favorites, and all the amazing reviews. They mean a lot to me, so please keep it up!**

* * *

It was a very long time before Fili was alone again. Hours after Linnor concluded her farewell song to her mother, after he held her, after he spoke in length with King Thranduil, Lord Elrond, Bard, Gandalf, Galadriel, and some of Dain's folk about the future of Erebor, after he watched his friends grieve over this great loss and as he watched the elf prince hold his crying cousin. Now, hours later, he was alone again.

He had left the burial room quickly, not wishing to stare at those pale lifeless faces any longer than he must – he always caught himself hoping that they might just be sleeping, and that any minute Kili would open his eyes and laugh at how he fooled his big brother, and Thorin would grumble and growl like he always did and Linnor would have her mother back. He kept hoping they were sleeping…but they never were.

So here he was, in the highest tower of the city of Erebor, nearly at the very top of the mountain. To be honest, Fili had absolutely no idea how he had gotten here. He hadn't been anywhere near this area in the last few days and when he left the room where his kin lay, he hadn't been paying much attention, choosing instead to let his mind wander as his feet took turn after turn, staircase after staircase until he found himself in front of two bronze solid doors he had never seen before in his life. Dark rubies were inlaid around the frame, emerald and gold flecks embedded in the bronze.

Fili knew that there were plenty of bedchambers around the city. Just a few floors beneath this one, there were the three doors to the royal family – Thorin, Dis, and Frerin. Linnor was currently using Frerin's as her own room, and Fili had been moving between the old room that was his as a child's (Dwain had moved a full sized bed in there for him) and Thorin's room. He also knew that the floor directly beneath this one was where Thrain's room was located. So this one, right in front of him, must be Thror's room, the mightiest King Under The Mountain. Fili reached forward to press his fingers to the door of his great grandfather's chambers. To his surprise, the heavy door swung open at his touch. With a new air of apprehension, Fili pushed the door open further and walked into this new territory.

The room was absolutely cavernous. In front of him was a wide-open space, leading directly to a large window centered at the other end of the room. Fili walked in slowly, taking in the massive sight. There were multiple rooms in the one chamber, almost as if it was made to be an entire living quarter away from the city center. Fili could see a dining area off to the left, and to the right, down a long forgotten hallway, there was the bedroom. It was magnificent – the gold and emeralds and rubies and black and fur. All this was Thror's – it was supposed to be Thorin's. And now it was his.

"Kili would have loved this." Fili whispered to himself. This was unbearable. Normally, Fili was able to pick himself up when things got bad in his life. But then, he had always had his mother, his uncle, and his brother. Now, he had no one. His mother was all the way back in the Blue Mountains, and his uncle and brother were dead. This time, the pain was too much.

"Oh, Kili." Fili walked to the large window at the other end of the room. "I wish I could follow you into the dark. I want to be with you brother, or you with me. Was there a blinding light Have you seen the gates of Mahal's highest heaven? I wish I knew…"

Fili closed his eyes, trying to call back the memories of his brother. But instead of Kili, he saw his mother's face. Dis was a beautiful dwarven woman, encompassing everything of their people, their culture, and the royal Durin line. She was the first blood-born princess of Durin in over one hundred years – that is, until Linnor. Fili knew that any day now, he would have to send word to the Blue Mountains for his mother to come and join him in Erebor, where she could grieve over her brother and son, and meet the niece who would be as close to a daughter to his mother.

"Amad…" Fili sighed, remembering his mother. Behind his closed eyes, the image seemed to shift and change, becoming clearer until it was almost like he was standing right there, back in his family hut in the Blue Mountains. He saw his mother right in front of him, her shining brown eyes, her hair all piled up on the top of her head, the smaller strands of her traditional facial hair braided elegantly and simply.

 _My Fili. My little lion man. My blonde boy._ She was cooing at him. _Don't hurt, baby. Don't hurt. It'll be alright. The sun is gonna shine again. The sun is gonne shine again. Remember that, baby?_

"Yes, Amad. I remember."

 _I've been waiting a long time._ The image of his mother reached forward to cup is face, and Fili swore that it felt almost real. But he knew that if he opened his eyes, it would disappear. He didn't want it to disappear. He kept his eyes closed tight.

 _Remember, Fili, you've got the song, you got the dance, and you've got the inspiration. You got it all in the palm of your hand. Remember, the sun is gonna shine._

"Amad, what does that mean?" Fili whined. "I don't have any of that. And I can't imagine any sunshine…not when all I see is darkness, and all I feel is pain. There's so much, Amad. I-I can't. I can't stop it."

" _Oh, child."_ The picture image of Dis smiled sadly. Fili could see, in the hazy outline of his imagination and the sunlight distorting it through his closed eyelids, a slight resemblance to Linnor when his mother tilted her head. And he could see Kili as her eyes twinkled. Maybe he wasn't remembering right. " _There are a lot of things you can't stop."_

"I do not understand."

" _Yesterday is history, love. It's never coming back. Tomorrow is a brand new day. It's a new day for healing. Nothing is laid out for the future. You will heal from this, my Fili. We all will. After all, the ones we love never truly leave us. They are always here. I am here. Your friends are there for you. Do not push them away."_

"I promise, Amad." Fili sighed. "I promise. And I promise, I will send for you soon."

Fili opened his eyes, the crystal clear image of his mother vanishing in an instant. He was standing on the balcony of his great-grandfather's room, looking out across the vast landscape of Middle Earth. From this height he could see much father than the bloody battlefield. He could see past the mountain ridges and the tops of the trees of Mirkwood. He could see, far in the distance, the mountains in Moria, and the dark land of Mordor. It was like being back on the wings of the Eagles.

"I'll never shake away the pain…" Fili murmured. Maybe it was to his mother, maybe to Mahal, maybe to his kin. He rally didn't know anymore. "I close my eyes, and they're still there. I'm sorry, Amad. But I think, maybe, it's more than I can bear."

Fili gripped his hair tightly in his fist, trying not to cry. He tried to remember what his mother had said. What had she said? Those who die never truly leave us. They are always there, right beside him. His father, his brother, his uncles, and his aunt, too.

" _I know they'll never leave me"_

Fili clenched his eyes shut again, and this time, he saw his brother's face, smiling in a sad, longing sort of way. He saw his uncle, nodding slowly. He saw his aunt, Linnor's mother, protecting her with her body at the end of the war. He saw Frerin, proud and stoic like in the tapestries hanging in the city. He saw his own father, just a distant, blurry memory. He had not lost them in his mind, though physically they were gone from this plane.

" _They will still torment me_

 _calm me, hurt me_

 _move me, come what may_

 _I know they'll never leave me_

 _Even as they fade from view_

 _They will still inspire me_

 _Be a part_

 _Of everything I do_

 _Wasting in this lonely tower_

 _Waiting by an open door_

 _I'll fool myself; they'll walk right in_

 _And as the long long nights begin_

 _I'll think of all that might have been_

 _Waiting here for_

 _Evermore"_

By the time Fili ended, he was breathing heavily and shaking. The air was much colder up here, and even the fur cape around his shoulders did nothing to quell the freezing snow and ice from the top of the mountain. He drew his cloak closer to him, and turned to leave. He hadn't gotten far when he realized that there was someone standing in front of him, blocking the door. For a shocking moment, Fili thought of the song he had song, the open door and one of his kin come back to him. As he refocused, he saw that it was his cousin.

'Linnor"

She took a step towards him, shyly.

"I thought I would find you here. We need to talk."


	70. Chapter 70: Once Upon A Dream

**A/N: Finals are over! To celebrate, another chapter featuring the Durin family. This didn't come out so great, but I'll leave the final decision up to you guys.**

 **The songs below are:**

Always Will from Bright Star

Nothing At All by A Rocket To The Moon

Once Upon A Dream from Sleeping Beauty

Ever Ever After by Carrie Underwood

Neverland from Finding Neverland

Turning Page by Sleeping At Last

 **I love these songs, so please check them out on YouTube. Also, remember I don't own anything except Linnor.**

 **Please continue to review!**

* * *

"Talk?" Fili asked. "What about? Linnor is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, yes, Fili, I'm fine. " Linnor came further into the room, hardly looking at the glorious room, instead keeping her luminescent eyes on him. She gave him chills, sometimes – the way she seemed to glow with a aura that drew attention to her in any room. While he may be King, Fili didn't ever really feel like the royal monarch he was supposed to. But Linnor…she was every bit a princess. She carried it with her, in every move. Perhaps it was her elfish nature.

"Then….what-?"

"Fili…" Linnor sighed. "Listen. I can't imagine how hard it is for you right now. I mean, you lost your brother and your uncle –"

"You lost your mother." Fili interrupted, reaching out to touch her arm. "I know that's not a light thing to take."

"It's not. I mean, I'm not taking it lightly –" Linnor took a deep breath. "What I meant was, I know how it feels to be entirely alone. But we're not. I mean, you have your mother back in Ered Luin. She's there for you. I know your brother was the world to you, and your Uncle was like a father. Thorin was like that to me, too, and I loved Kili dearly. I know how much it hurts, but –'

"Linnor." Fili hushed her. "Please tell me that you know that you're not alone anymore, either. You have me, and my mother. Dis is your aunt, and I guarantee that once she meets you, she will treat you like a daughter."

Linnor looked at him with shining eyes, and to Fili, she seemed to glow with a vibrant energy. He wondered if this was what the elf prince saw when he looked at her, a glowing princess caught between two worlds.

"Listen," Fili cleared his throat. "I want you to know that things will get better. You know, eventually. And I want you to know that I will always be here for you. You're my cousin, Linnor, but you're so close to a sister that I know I will protect you with my life as long as I can. I love you, and I always will. Always, always will."

"Oh, Fili." Linnor smiled, her eyes shining. "Thank you. I love you too. You're like a brother to me, and I know that you will be there when I need you. I will try to do the same."

Fili pulled her into a warm hug, trying to hold onto the little of his pride he had left (though he was quickly losing that battle as tears slowly slid down his face). When he finally let go, Fili guided her out the door of Thror's chambers. There would be plenty of time for him to explore the King's private rooms, but for now, Fili felt that being alone was the last thing he needed. He was sure the others would be glad to spend time with their future King. His crowning ceremony was tomorrow morning, and he wanted one more day just as Fili.

As the bronze doors closed behind them, Fili turned his attention back to Linnor. As soon as he did, she turned to face him and smiled.

"What?" she laughed. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I was just wondering…." Fili cleared his throat awkwardly, "You and the elf prince…"

"His name is Legolas." Linnor said firmly, but her voice was gentle still. "And what do you want to know?'

"Well," Fili bit his lip, rolled his shoulders, and tried to figure out how his Uncle Thorin would have asked this question. "I don't know if anyone has ever told you, but dwarves and elves –"

"Only have one heart to give?" Linnor laughed. "Yes, I believe that has been told to me several times."

"Oh." Fili didn't know what else to say, so for another few minutes, they simply walked in silence.

"Fili?" He looked back to his cousin. "I'm not choosing him. Over Erebor, I mean. Over you guys. Family comes first. I learned that the hard way, and that's what I'm sticking to."

"I'd never ask you to – "

"I know you wouldn't. It's my decision." Linnor said, though there was something in her voice that Fili couldn't place. "Legolas and I haven't made any commitments we regret, and he understands my place is here, and I know that his is in Mirkwood."

"Won't you have to discuss the future, though? Whether you want to stay in Erebor or move to Mirkwood?"

"That conversation can wait." Linnor's tone was clipped. It was clear that Fili was treading on a topic that was not welcome in Linnor's mind. Thinking quickly, Fili blurted out the next thing he had wanted to ask his cousin.

"What's it like?"

Obviously, this was not what Linnor was expecting – she stopped walking so suddenly and nearly toppled down the staircase they had just reached. Quickly, she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself as she whipped her head around to stare at him. Fili, too, stood frozen, shocked at the reaction his cousin had to the simple question.

"W-what?" Linnor gasped. "What's what like?"

"Being in love." Fili sputtered. "I wanted to know what it's like being in love and giving your heart away! Why, what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing! I-" she blushed. "Nothing." She took a moment to compose herself before looking back to him, this time with bewilderment in her eyes. "You've never been in love?"

"No." This time, Fili blushed. "It wasn't really a priority when I was growing up. I mean, I noticed girls, but none of them ever really caught at my heart. Besides, I had Kili. Now, he was the real heart throb of our village. At one point or another, nearly every lass fell for him, and got their heart broken as the result. He never cold really settle for just one. And me, I could never settle a all."

"Well," Linnor bit her lip to keep from smiling, but the goofy grin broke through anyways and Fili could feel his face redden even more. "I'd say it's as if your heart feels its flying and your head feels its spinning, and you feel absolutely enchanted."

"It sounds lovely." Fili started down the stairs again, with Linnor following behind him. She didn't answer, and he looked back to see that she was deep in thought, her lower lip twisted in her teeth. It was another minute before she realized he was looking at her.

"Sorry." She sighed. "Fili, no one expects you to find a queen anytime soon, or even at all. I've been talking to Balin, and he told me that Thorin was never in love in his life either, which was why he was counting on you and Kili so much."

"I know, I know." Fili moved forward. "I was only wondering. You and the elf – I mean, Legolas, seem to be getting very close. I only wondered if it was even worth it. Look at what we've just gone through. We've lost so much already. What's the point of caring for another person if, in the end, they end up hurting you one way or another?"

"Fili, stop."

The blonde dwarf turned around and saw that while he had been walking, Linnor hadn't moved. She was standing maybe fifteen feet from him, still on the stairs, with a blank, unreadable look on her face. Fili furrowed his brow in confusion and worry, but he made no move to go to her.

"Linnor, if I have made any offense –"

"No. You haven't. You have spoken out of concern for me, and as your younger cousin and Princess, it is only right you be concerned of my feelings with Legolas." She spoke calmly and without emotion, and slowly, she stepped backwards up onto a higher step. Still, Fili stayed where he was.

"I never meant –"

"There is joy to be claimed in this world, Fee." Linnor said softly, and there was a piercing pain in Fili's heart at the use of that nickname – the one that his little brother endeared to him when they were just babes and Kili couldn't say his name yet. "There is an ever after to every storybook ending. I know you don't understand, but you need to trust that I am smart enough to make my own decisions."

"Of course." Fili nodded. Linnor kept staring at him with that odd blank look in her eyes before she finally turned away and climbed back up the stairs – no doubt off to find Legolas. Fili waited until she was completely gone from view, her footsteps faded, before he continued down to the center city to find his other companions. Something had gone wrong in the few minutes he had spoken with his cousin. Was it something he had said? Or maybe she had realized something that had completely taken her aback? Fili tried to remember their conversation, but all he could recollect now was Linnor's insistence that she loved Legolas and that there were no regrets between them. How he hoped that was true.

If anyone deserved an ever after, it was Linnor Alea Sathren Durin.

* * *

Linnor hurried back down the winding halls to her room, the conversation with Fili running through her mind at warp speed. Everything about pain and love and joy and regrets – it was all blurring together now and she felt more confused than ever. What was it Fili had said to her? What's the point of caring for someone if they always end up hurting you, one way or another? She told him tat family came first, that she was staying here in Erebor while Legolas would leave in three days time back home to Mirkwood. But could a love such as theirs withstand so much distance? Her parents had tried, over a much longer distance, but there was also a baby in their case. Babies always complicate things.

Linnor tried to calm down and sort things out, but the more she tried, the more rattled she seemed to get. Her steps seemed to get faster and faster as she took corner after corner, staircase after staircase, until she finally found the bed chambers and threw open the dark emerald set door of her father's room.

Legolas was still there, fast asleep with his eyes open (the norm for elves), his hands rested atop his chest in peace. Linnor steadied herself at the sight of him, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath, taking in the startling contrast of the blonde hair splayed out on the black fur cover of the bed. Slowly, so as not to wake him, she stepped into her room and closed the door softly. Linnor made her way across the floor, stepping as lightly as any of her mother's kin, and climbed up beside her love, propping herself slightly above him so that she was looking down into his face.

She could tell the exact moment he went from sleeping to waking. His eyes seemed to flutter, and they suddenly moved from this vague unfocused state to a bright alertness that latched itself onto her. Legolas blinked a few times, registering that she was indeed gazing down at him, and he smiled lovingly at her. It was the kind of look that made her flush with embarrassment; he was looking at her as if she was the most beautiful star.

" _I know you,_

 _I walked with you once upon a dream._

 _I know you,_

 _That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_

 _And I know it's true_

 _That visions are seldom what they seem_

 _But if I know you,_

 _I know what you'll do_

 _You'll love me at once_

 _The way you did_

 _Once upon a dream"_

Legolas sang to her softly, and Linnor couldn't help the giggle that rose from her lips. He could be so endearing for a prince, and a soldier. To be fair, she was probably no less odd.

"How quaint." She laughed.

"How lovely you are to me." Legolas replied, moving out of her lap and sitting beside her on the bed. It was almost intimate, the way the leaned toward each other, but it was also friendly and exciting, like two children about to share a foolish secret. Linnor smiled even wider, hoping that it looked in any way genuine. He couldn't know her doubts and insecurities, not until she figured them all out herself.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long. I know I said I would only be a moment, but it took me ages to find Fili, and then we got to talking –"

"You needn't explain to me." Legolas hushed her. "I know all about family, and the duties we owe to them."

Linnor ducked her head, her conversation with Fili pushing its way back to the forefront of her mind. She wanted to tell Legolas everything, work things out so that maybe she could stop feeling so jumbled, a complete mess. But instead, she composed her face into a small sheepish smile and touched his cheek with the palm of her hand, reveling in the feeling of him pressing into her.

"I'm just sorry I kept you waiting." She said.

"Oh, really. I've waited a hundred years, but I'd wait a million more for you." Legolas crooned. "I consider it a privilege of being yours."

"Your sweet." Linnor chuckled. "But I agree. I spent decades in that little room, not knowing what it was that was really missing, but knowing that something, everything, was out of my reach. But if I had only felt the warmth of your touch just once, if I had even a glimpse of your smile, or the curl of your lip, I would have known what I was living for all along…was you."

Slowly, almost incredibly painfully, Legolas leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. It was an electric feeling – every single fiber of her being came alive, and she could feel it. She was insanely aware of every part of her, and Linnor leaned in to press her lips harder against his, to breathe more of him in, to taste the wintery, crispness that was Legolas.

All too soon they broke apart, gasping for air, and Linnor leaned her forehead against him, her eyes closed.

"I love you." she whispered. "I love you so much."

Legolas gave a huge sigh, his chest still rising hard as he tried to regain his composure.

"Your love is the only thing I can't live without." He said, his voice like a breathe of wind. "A little bit of it, even in the smallest of moments, beats getting none of it all my life. I love you, Linnor. With my whole heart."

"Tell me a story." Linnor whispered a long time later. They had changed positions now, and she was resting with her head on his chest, one arm wrapped across his waist. Both of his arms were encircling her in a close embrace, keeping her locked against him.

"Alright." She could tell that he was taking her request very seriously, and she snuggled closer to him. "Picture a land that you never have seen, where life is eternal and evergreen. Can you see it?"

"Mmmm." Linnor hummed.

" _Whenever I was frightened_

 _or if I ever felt alone_

 _I turned to the night sky,_

 _To a star I called my own._

 _Somewhere I could run to_

 _Just across the treetop glade_

 _If you like I could take you_

 _It's just forever and a day"_

"Oh, Legolas." Linnor sighed happily. "Can we go?"

"Certainly. We can sail away tonight on a sea of pure moonlight.. We'll navigate the stars to bring us back home. In a place so far away, we'll be young – that's how we'll stay. Your wish is my command."

Linnor could feel herself drifting into sleep, encircled in the warmth that was her love. But beneath the peace and comfort she felt I his arms and by his sweet words, the nagging doubting feeling came back.

Linnor closed her eyes tighter and lost herself into a dreamless sleep.


	71. Chapter 71: Angels at the Coronation

**A/N: Okay! So I estimate that there will be 11 more chapters to this story, and that includes an epilogue that will make you guys squeal! But no spoilers. I'm afraid there is still some pain and heartache to come.**

 **The songs below are:**

Another Set of Wings by A Rocket To The Moon

Not About Angels by Birdy

All I Need Is An Angel by Carly Rae Jepsen

Without You by Usher

Super Friend from The Flash

 **The last song was requested by Rohirrim Girl 2187.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

It was today. Fili couldn't believe this day, so long a far fetched dream, now it was a reality, and today, this cold and lonely day in this cold new year, was his coronation as the King of Erebor. It should be a day of great pride and honor, surrounded by kin and the people he would lead for the next century or so. Instead, his mother and all the people of his city were half a world away, and all he had was his small company, some Elves and Men, and Dain's mighty warriors.

When he was younger, he used to imagine Kili beside him, giving off that heartbreakingly charming smile, his mother and uncle standing proudly to the side with the rest of the company as the old people of his city cheered and bowed to their new King, the continuation of the Durin line. And then, Linnor was there, too, crowned the new Princess to stand as a part of the Durins too. It was his dream, and though it had changed slightly when Linnor ad joined them, it was still his dream.

Now – now he and Linnor would be crowned as the continuation of the Durin reign of Erebor in only a few hours, and here he was, standing at the end of the hallway leading to the bedchambers. He had talked for a long time with Balin and Dwalin, his uncle's two oldest and dearest friends, and they had said much of the same as Linnor – that he was not alone, and that no one was pressuring him to wed a lass anytime soon. Balin had wisely suggested to let life take its course and Mahal would hopefully send a sign when the time was right. Fili graciously accepted the advice, and for a few hours, he had let himself relax and socialize with the small group – letting Ori sketch him, listening to Bofur's flute, laughing as they all told stories about each other, talking about the celebration that would follow the coronation ceremony. But all too soon, he had left them so he could have some time to think alone, and, once again, Fili found himself in a place he didn't know he wanted to be.

" _I keep staring at your door_

 _from down the hallway_

 _Tonight I couldn't make it to your room._

 _And I'm wishing it was me instead of you"_

Fili tried to push that dark cloud from his mind but he could feel the pain and the doubt rolling just under the surface.

" _Time heals all but somehow I'm still broken_

 _Cause parts of me ain't ever gonna mend"_

"There you are lad." Fili turned around to see that Bofur had followed him up to the chambers. "Dain has sent me to find you. He's setting up the throne room, inviting the Men and Elves to gather to celebrate you, and Linnor, of course. Ori's gone to find her, but I'm to take you to meet Balin and Gandalf to prepare – well, whatever needs preparing now."

"Bofur." Fili held the merry dwarf's gaze with a new question burning through his mind. "Can I ask you something?"

"Well, you can ask. I'll do my best to answer , of course."

"Do you – do you believe in angels?" Fili felt rather silly asking such a childish question, but he had this sudden urge to know what was…well, beyond. He could have asked Linnor, or perhaps Balin or Gandalf, with their wisdom of everything above and deeper and beyond his own measly sixty two years. But there was something about Bofur – his calming, steady optimism – that eluded to a different kind of wisdom, one that was unique to the toy making dwarf.

"Angels?" Bofur blinked in surprise, but, to Fili's relief, he made no other comment about the oddity of the question. "Now, hmm, that's a toughie. Now, Mahal and his warriors, I know about, but angels? Gee, I – well, let me think. Angels, huh?" Bofur sighed and stepped closer to Fili as he talked. "What about angels? Ah, lad. Angels – they will come and they will go. They…um….they –"

"Uh," Fili held his hands up to stop Bofur's flow of bumbling words. "Thanks, Bofur. Really. But, um, I guess I was just looking for something a little more…"

"No, I get you, lad." Bofur smiled kindly. Despite his lack of answers, Fili felt oddly satisfied with talking to the older toy keeper.

"It's just – " Fili wanted to explain himself badly, but the words seemed to tangle themselves in his mouth. "I keep feeling like I'm lost. And I think, so what now? I'm waiting for someone to tell me what to do, but I'm the one in charge now. Me. And I'm floundering, Bofur, and all I need," he sighed, "is an angel. A friend, a stranger, or a brother. Just – someone to tell me it's alright. I –"

"My king."

Fili froze. He still wasn't used to hearing his new title as King. He didn't feel kingly. Thorin…he had always looked majestic. He had always looked the part of a Durin King. But Fili…he was still barely an adult. It scared him how much everything depended on him now. The world was on his shoulders. But as much as it scared him, Fili thought, it also thrilled him that same amount.

"I'm sorry." Bofur said softly, placing his hand firmly on his shoulder. "It's time."

* * *

It was a really nice ceremony, really, Linnor thought. The throne room had been turned into a sort of amphitheater, the guests in the surrounding walkways that ran around the entire space, almost a hundred faces peering through the gaps in the stone. A hundred Men, Elves, and the Dwarves from the Iron Hills.

And then there they were. The original company – minus two – standing in a ordered line down the center isle leading to the throne. Linnor stood facing her old friends, standing at the front with FIli on her left, and with Gandalf on his other side. Lord Elrond, King Thranduil, Lady Galadriel, and Legolas stood further to the side as well, all adorned in regal attire. Linnor, too, was surprised by the Lady with a new ceremonial dress just for today. It was clearly elven made, spun in silver with droplets of water frozen in scattered perfection, and a neckline that flattered her features. Linnor could finally see, even a little bit, the elfish blood of her mother's side.

And now here she stood, about to be declared officially a Princess of Durin, and her dear cousin crowned King Under The Mountain. It was…a different feeling than she was expecting.

"And now, with all the honor of Mahal, and in Durin's name, I can declare Fili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under The Mountain of Erebor. All hail King Fili!" Gandalf's voice echoed through the chambers.

" _All hail King Fili!"_ came the thundering response.

"And with all the honor of Mahal, and in Durin's name, and with the blessings of the Elves beside them, I declare Linnor Alea Sathren Durin, daughter of Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the Princess of Durin. All hail Princess Linnor!" Gandalf announced, and this time, he looked over at her, and it was a look of such pride and admiration, she had to look away. Her face felt hot, and she knew she was blushing horribly.

" _All hail Princess Linnor!"_

There was a swell of noise as the entire audience burst into thunderous applause, crashing over them like an ocean's wave during a mighty storm. Linnor almost fell backwards with the amount of force with which it hit her, but a steady hand at her back held her up. Linnor looked at Fili, now with the familiar ironwork crown laid upon his brow, who smiled at her, his eyes shining.

"Thank you." he mouthed.

"For what?" Linnor tried to ask, but it was still too loud. Instead she leaned in closer until she was right by his ear, and even then, she nearly yelled as she repeated herself. Fili laughed, the sound lost to the raucous cheers of the Dwarves. Gloin in particular was getting quite rowdy, hooting and hollering and jumping around his brother, Oin, who was swatting at him with his hearing trumpet.

"Linnor." Fili whispered in her ear. "I couldn't do this without you. I can't. You…you, Linnor are the rock that has anchored us down, the glue that holds our little crew together. You, with your songs and optimism and…And I know now, that I can't reign without you. I will never be the same without you. I am lost and vain without you. Because you are all I have left. The only family that matters to me now."

"You don't mean that." Linnor said lightly. "Your mother –"

"Isn't here, for good reason, but still. She isn't here. You are. My cousin. This is your home, with us. And you…you are the reason we are here now. So thank you, Linnor."

Linnor couldn't speak. She had no idea what to say. She should be pleased. She should be content. After all, hadn't she told Fili that she chose family over her love? That she was staying here in Erebor? Linnor knew that she wasn't going to Mirkwood. She knew that wasn't the right path for her. But suddenly, the idea of simply staying in this emerald castle for the rest of her life didn't feel like the right path either. Linnor just felt… paused. Not finished, but not moving forward, either.

"People of Erebor, of Laketown, of Imladris and of Mirkwood." Fili's voice finally took over from the dying applause. "I wish to thank you all for coming to tonight's ceremony. As most of you know, my Uncle Thorin and my brother, Kili, were both slain in the battle. Alongside them, was Linnor's mother. We are the only two left with a direct descent from Durin, along with my mother, Dis, who is still away in the Blue Mountains. To end this ceremony, I ask Linnor to sing, something that thrilled them, and all of us." Fili motioned for her to step forward, which she did, but her mind was blank. What was she supposed to say to follow that?

 _At times like these when life is getting me down_

 _And the world seems like it's going to end –ship_

 _There's at least one power we both have_

 _And that's the power of friendship!"_

Linnor honestly had no idea where she was going with this, and by the silence in the room, neither did anyone else.

" _If you need a hand,_

 _I'll be there in a flash._

 _Yeah, I'm your super friend."_

Linnor stopped singing, feeling self conscious. No one moved, and no one spoke. Finally, after a long time, or so it seemed to her, Gandalf moved forward to stand beside her.

"Ah, friendship. A more powerful bond than anything magic, light or dark, could ever create. These bonds which we have forged over the fields of blood and pain these last few days are ones we must try not to break. Men and Elves and Dwarves are now allies, and together, we can hold our own against any evil in this world."


	72. Chapter 72: Undone At The Seams

**A/N: I am writing this from my brand new laptop and I am loving it! College shopping is expensive, but worth it. No more crappy uploads for me!**

 **The songs used below are:**

Helpless from Hamilton

Shattered by Turning Pages

Undone by Haley Reinhart

Something I Want by Grace Potter

Get Back Up Again by Anna Kendrick

I Do by A Rocket To The Moon

Beautiful Thing by Grace Vanderwaal

Somewhere Over The Rainbow from Wizard of Oz

 **If you are unfamiliar with any of these songs, I encourage you to look them up. Expand your musical repertoire!**

 **Also, please continue to review. All your comments mean so much to me. Thanks guys!**

* * *

"Linnor!" Legolas called out to her as they left the throne room. "Linnor, wait! I wish to speak with you!"

"Can it wait, Legolas?" Linnor sighed, turning to face her love as he walked toward her. "I'm very tired and, if you don't mind, I think I'd prefer to be alone for a while."

"Is everything okay?" Legolas asked. They were standing in the entrance way now, the last of the guests filing out around them, most likely to prepare for the celebration later that night, leaving the two of them alone.

"Is everything…?" Linnor laughed, and even that sounded sad and strained."Yeah, sure. Everything is fine, Legolas, darling. We defeated Smaug, reclaimed Erebor, united Middle Earth, crowned Fili as King and me as Princess and now we're going to celebrate and live happily ever after for the next fifty years under a mountain!" As she spoke, Linnor found herself becoming more and more hysterical until her voice was reverberating off the emerald stone. As it quieted down, Linnor, breathing hard, looked cautiously at Legolas, whose face was carefully blank. She hadn't meant for her emotions to explode like that, but she was, in all honesty, too tired to be truly embarrassed. "Legolas, I'm sorry. I - " but she couldn't finish. What could she say?

"When was the last time you slept?" Legolas said quietly after a pause.

Linnor averted her eyes and didn't answer. If she thought about it, she couldn't remember sleeping for more than a few minutes over the last couple of days. And even when she did manage to close her eyes for a longer period of time, she would wake up feeling worse than when she had dozed off.

"Linnor, you're burning yourself out. You can't keep pushing yourself - "

"Legolas, stop." Linnor cut him off, rubbing her forehead. "Do you ever think that you've been living in a pure illusion?"

"I do not think I understand you."

"And you are not the only one." Linnor sighed. She didn't know what was making her say what she was, but Linnor was glad it was finally being sad. "I've never been on my own. Not really. I've always had somebody there - I never learned to come to my own conclusions, to make my own decisions. I thought I knew once, but right when I thought I knew what to say… someone came along to show me a brand new way. But I never did it alone."

"Linnor…" Legolas sighed, but she paid him no mind.

"There's something that I want, Legolas. Something I need."

"What are you saying? Look," Legolas stepped forward and placed his thin, lithe hands on her shoulders, moving his palms to cup her face, "about what I wished to discuss with you. You know, you are officially royalty now. No more secrets, no more proving yourself. You are, forever, Princess Linnor During."

"Legolas, please. I'm no Princess." Linnor could feel her face flush regardless and she pulled away from his hands, taking them instead in hers. "You know I have never been the type to try and grab the spotlight, and that's all this is."

"Well, you know that every Princess gets her Prince." Legolas smirked, and this time, when she laughed, there was a spark of sincerity.

"Ah, yes." She crooned. "I look into your eyes and the sky's the limit. Truly, Legolas, you leave me helpless." she laughed again. "Just think - in one week's time, we'll be writing letters nightly."

"That's what I wanted to talk to about, Linnor." Legolas said.

 _"_ _The longer that we're together_

 _The good just keeps on getting better_

 _I never thought that I would ever_

 _Find someone like you_

 _Everyday you show me that I can_

 _Just when I think that I can't_

 _Love you anymore than I do_

 _I do."_

"What are you saying, Legolas?" Linnor took a step back, removing her hands from his.

"In a matter of hours, my father, along with Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf and the little one, will be leaving, assuming to their respective realms."

"And you'll be leaving with your father." Linnor said. It was what she had honestly been expecting, though his approach seemed rather odd.

"See, that's just it." Legolas smiled at her, as his ice blue eyes sparked with excitement. "I won't be leaving with my father."

Linnor stared at the full elf in front of her, her mind blank. What had he said? She blinked, aware that this was probably not the reaction he had anticipated from her.

"I don't…" she cleared her throat. "I don't think I understand."

"Linnor, I'm staying here in Erebor." Legolas grinned, his perfect teeth gleaming.

"Why?" Linnor asked, still keeping her face impassive. She didn't know why, but it was slowly dawning on her as she looked into his crystal eyes. Everything she had told him - about never being on her own, never making her own decisions - came back to her. She used to think it wasn't entirely a bad thing…but now….and though, in the moment, she may not have entirely meant all she had said, now, these words were running through her mind and forming a crazy idea.

The problem was, if she followed through with it, it might just mean breaking her own heart.

"Why?" The excitement was slowly draining from her true love's face. "For you, Linnor. I'm staying for you. I've already discussed this with my father, and King Fili, who both agreed that perhaps my position here could be an advisory one, uniting Erebor to the Elven realms, with you, of course, though it would mainly be to Mirkwood -"

"Legolas. Stop." Linnor interrupted, closing her eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."

She felt him still. Already Linnor felt her chest ache, and she kept her eyes closed tight. She didn't think she could bear to see his face now.

"What?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here, Legolas." Linnor said, each word like a knife to her heart, driving itself deeper and deeper until it was more of a numbness than actual pain. "You should leave with your father and the others."

He was quiet, then, and Linnor was dying to see him, but she couldn't bring herself to open even one eyelid, to lift even one lash. Time passed (or she assumed it did) and still he didn't speak. Linnor thought for one horrible moment that perhaps he had already left and she was the stupid girl standing alone in the throne room with her eyes closed. But then came a long sigh, and she knew he was still there, standing further away from her than he had been a few minutes ago.

"Why not?" Legolas asked softly. 'Why, Linnor? Why can't I stay here with you?"

"Because I am not sure that I'm even staying!" Linnor yelled, and this time she did open her eyes and looked into the shocked face of Legolas Greenleaf. "Okay, Legolas, I don't know that I'm staying here in Erebor. I don't know if I'm going to Mirkwood, or maybe to Laketown, or Lothlorien, or, hell, maybe back to Imladris. I don't know, Legolas. All I know for sure," and, she realized, she really did know this for sure, "is that I am not staying here."

The shocked look never left the elf prince's face. Linnor's heart almost shattered as he continued to stare at her as if he didn't know her - as if he had never loved her. Slowly, painfully, excruciatingly slowly, Legolas walked toward her - and past her without speaking another word. Linnor felt tears start to stream down her face.

 _"_ _And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand_

 _Why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love_

 _Without love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on_

 _But I know, all I know, is that the end's beginning_

 _Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart_

 _Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent_

 _All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain_

 _All is lost, hope remains, and the war's not over_

 _There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones_

 _To this place we belong, and love will conquer on."_

By the time she finished, Linnor had fallen to her knees and was crying full force. Her song and her sobs echoed terribly. She tried, really tried, to listen to the words that poured unwillingly from her lips. What was she supposed to do now? Despite what she told Legolas, she knew she wouldn't go back to Rivendell, nor anyplace else she had listed. Her heart no longer resided neither did it here. She didn't belong anywhere.

"What am I going to do now?"

"Linnor?"

It was a familiar voice - and the last one she ever expected to hear.

"Trouble with your… love life?"

"Love life? What's that?" Linnor gave a shaky laugh with an ill attempt at humor. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, My Lady." Linnor didn't rise to her feet, or try to turn around. but she didn't have to. After a moment, the Lady Galadriel came and knelt beside.

"Heartaches and mistakes, dear Linnor." the elf woman whispered to her.

"How many hits can a good girl take, My Lady? I'm tired of hurting." Linnor sighed, bowing her head.

"Linnor, look at me." Galadriel spoke.

"I'm sorry I'm really a mess right now." Linnor gave a shaky breath. "I'm trying my best to get it together somehow."

"Ah." Galadriel sighed. "Linnor, I want you to listen to me. Stars fade away, and they just crash into space and disappear from the light."

"Can you tell me where love goes when it's gone?" Linnor stood suddenly and started to pace, wiping at the track marks on her face. "Tell me where hearts go when they go wrong? Because suddenly - suddenly someone is no one and I've come -"

She stopped when the elven queen lay a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"You are coming undone." Galadriel said. "And you must not allow this misstep, and your natural longing, to leave you this way. It is not what is in store for you."

"My Lady?"

Galadriel only smiled.

"I must go. Do not worry, Princess. We will meet again, somewhere along your journey."

And then she was gone, leaving Linnor alone again.

'My journey?" Linnor whispered to herself. "So I really am going to leave. I suppose it's inevitable." She exhaled slowly and started to pace again. "I have to, now, after all that's been said. But what if it's all a big mistake? What if it's more than I can take?"

Linnor thought of Dili, his faith in her, Legolas, and his love for her, and Galadriel, and all she had told her. She thought of Thorin and what he would tell her were he here. She though of Kili, and how he would support her. And then she thought of herself, something she hadn't done in a very long time. Linnor remembered her mother and her father, how they had lived, and died, to give her a chance at life.

"No." she said, a little louder than before. "I can't think that way, cause I know that I am going to be okay." Linnor steeled herself and with determined step, left the throne room and began her way back to prepare for what she was about to do.

 _"_ _Hey, I'm not giving up today._

 _There's nothing getting in my way._

 _And if you knock, knock me over_

 _I will get back up again."_

Linnor reached her room quickly. She didn't have much time. The celebration was when the sun set and it would be better if she was gone before then. Maybe she could travel with one of the other parties - not Thranduil. That would be entirely unwise. And certainly not Elrond. She had said her goodbyes to him a long time ago. Galadriel said they would meet further along her journey, so she could not possibly travel with her now. So that left ….

"Gandalf. And Bilbo." Linnor muttered. "Better companions than most, I suppose."

As she talked, Linnor was hastily packing her few belongings into a satchel: a couple handfuls of coins, spare clothes, her cloak, a dagger, her father's journal and her mother's letters, the locket, and - Linnor froze. There, on her bed, was a small folded piece of paper. A letter - addressed to her. Linnor reached for the paper, already having a feeling of who had left it, and what it held.

 _Dear Linnor,_

 _You think that you know my heart, and you probably do. I could stay with you for hours in an empty room, and never get bored, never have nothing to do. Simply put, you are my other half, you're what makes me, me, and makes me smile. You're a beautiful thing. We're a beautiful thing, together._

 _Don't give up on us yet._

 _Your prince,_

 _LG_

Linnor folded the letter up, and with dry eyes, she tucked it into her bag. Lastly, Linnor changed out of her lovely elven dress (which she then also tucked away for future use) and into dark trousers and tunic that she cinched at the waist with a leather thong. With one final look at her father's dark room, Linnor lifted her belongings onto her back and prepared to find the few friends she had made on her long journey to this place.

It was time to say her final goodbyes.

As she closed the door behind her, she sang,

 _"_ _Somewhere over the rainbow_

 _Blue birds fly._

 _Birds fly over the rainbow_

 _why then oh why,_

 _can't I?"_

"At the very least, I am going to try." she told herself. "Mahal as my witness, for the first time in a very long tie, I am really going to try."


	73. Chapter 73: The Goodbyes (Part 1)

**A/N: I know, I know! I threw you guys for a loop with the last chapter. Don't worry! I have a plan and it all works out in the end. Eventually. Guys, we are so close to wrapping this entire story up. I estimate another 10 chapters (maximum), so hang in there with me.**

 **The songs below for this chapter are:**

Lonely Lullaby by Owl City

For Good from Wicked

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story from Hamilton

Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel

 **Review please!**

* * *

As it was, it seemed Linnor was destined to find her company members separated with their own kin. Or maybe they all knew her plans, and had made a plan of their own to help her say her individual goodbyes. It didn't matter, in the end, she supposed, so long as everyone was found.

It was Oin and Gloin who she came across first. Neither of them looked surprised to see her changed and packed, confirming her suspicions that maybe they had already known she wasn't staying.

"Lass." Gloin called to her. He was at the bottom of a staircase, his brother beside him. It seemed to Linnor that they were like sentries, standing guard at a point that she had to pass, but couldn't, yet.

"Oin. Gloin." she said, coming to meet them. "I must speak with you."

"We know." Oin said gently, adjusting his hearing aid. "We know everything, and it's alright, Miss." Oin cut her off before she had a chance to question them. "But we needed to talk to you - alone - before you went off. And we wished to give you something."

"You didn't have to -"

"Yes. We did." Gloin said, his eyes suspiciously shiny. "Come here, lassie."

Linnor placed her satchel in the ground and came to sit on the bottom step beside the two. After a few minutes, Gloin cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, I suppose I'll begin. Uh, Miss Linnor. I am sure you are well aware of my aversion to the Elven kind of folk, and I know you are half elf, and I'm sure your mother was a lovely woman but that still doesn't -" he cut off with a grunt of pain as Oin thwacked him over the head with his ear trumpet. "Oh, uh, right. What I mean is - even though you are half an elf, you're half a dwarf too. And half a dwarf is certainly enough for me." Gloin finished, and Linnor knew he was crying now - the tears falling into his thick beard.

"Oh, Gloin." she said softly. She reached out to touch him - and he pushed something small and metallic into her palm. "What's this?"

As Linnor leaned into examine it, her finger slid over a catch and it popped open, revealing two separate frames that held two even smaller sketches of a little dwarfing boy and an older female. Linnor was struck with the image of a strikingly similar locket tucked away in her bag, but this wasn't hers, she knew.

"Gloin," Linnor gasped, "this is your locket. Your wife and your son - why would you…?"

"I kept that with me to remember them during our quest, to keep them near me at all times with Mahal's will, just in case I didn't make it through to see today. But I did and I don't think I need it anymore. A group will be sent to the Blue Mountains eventually to call back our families, so I won't have to remember, for they'll be here. But I thought you might find use of it - if purely sentimental."

"Won't you miss it?" Linnor asked. "What if you forget?"

"Lass, memories don't dissolve like salt in water. I'll dissolve when the rain pours in, if you know what I mean. And I can't forget them, Linnor, anymore than I can forget you. And I can't forget you. But I wanted to give you something so you wouldn't forget me. And maybe, if you run into my lad one day, you'll recognize him as Gimli, son of a friend. And you can show him that, and he will know."

"Oh, Gloin!"

This time, Linnor succeeded in pulling the grouchy dwarf in for a hug, and she held him gently as he awkwardly patted her on the back.

"I've heard it said," she whispered to him, "that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn and we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them. I now I'm who I am today because I knew you." She pulled away, brushing her tears away on his scraggly hair. She kept a hand on Gloin and placed the other on Oin's arm. "It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime. But I will never forget you two. You have changed me for good."

"That's what we hoped." Oin grunted gingerly. "Now it is my turn, dearie.

Linnor turned to the old dwarf and was surprised when he handed her -

"Your ear trumpet?" she looked at Oin, confused. "Don't you kind of need this?"

He shrugged and gave her a soft, sort of secret smile, hidden in the folds of hair and wrinkles.

"I could always hear you fine. Besides, I'll get me a new one. I wanted you to take that, though, to remind you to always be bold. You are a remarkable young lady, My Lady.

"You are a wonderful friend, Oin." Linnor touched his rough cheek gently.

"Sail on, silver girl." he said. "Your time has come to shine."

Linnor stood up, placing these new treasures in her pack with the utmost care. She slowly picked the whole thing up again, and with lighter heart, started to walk away, but before she had gone too far, she turned back to where Oin and Gloin were watching her go. Linnor raised her hand in farewell, and a snippet of a song came to her, unbidden but not unwelcome. She called it out to them,

 _"_ _Let me tell you what I wish I'd known_

 _When I was young and dreamed of glory_

 _You have no control_

 _Who lives, who dies, who tells your story"_

And she was gone.


	74. Chapter 74: Goodbyes (Part 2)

**A/N: I am incredibly tired. Oh my god. And I'm super frazzled because I keep misplacing things and losing my mind. Is this what being a college student is going to be like?**

 **Anyways, let's continue this! The song below are:**

Wild Things by Alessia Clare

Drink With Me from Les Miserables

When Your Making Up A Song from Psych the Musical

Thank God For Something by Hawk Nelson

 **Enjoy and keep reviewing please! Your support means the world to me.**

* * *

It was like a strange scavenger game. No sooner had she left Oin and Gloin then she came across Bifur, Bofur and Bombur standing in wait in front of the stained glass windows.

"The sons of the family Ur." Linnor said as she approached, her voice solemn, but she was smiling. No dwarves could be any sweeter than those three. Despite the fact that Bifur and Bomber hardly spoke (and Bifur, only in unintelligible Khuzdul), they were always kind to her, and never once gave her reason not to trust them (which had happened at one point or another with basically every other member of the old company).

"My Lady." Bofur smiled, lifting the ends of his curling mustache, and took a sweeping bow with his hat flopping side to side. "Come, come"

"Alright." Linnor chuckled. As she came closer to the three, something caught her rather, the lack of something. "Bifur, your axe! It's gone!" Linnor gasped at the mighty dwarf, whose most characteristic trait used to be the head of an axe lodged in the center of his forehead. Except now, the ae piece was gone, leaving a ragged half healed scar across his scar. Bifur looked at her, a rare genuine smile playing on his lips. Bofur and Bombur, too, looked rather pleased.

"Hello, miss."

Linnor blinked, then screamed, dropping her satchel as she jumped onto Bifur, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Bifur! Oh Mahal. How -?"

"You can thank an orc for this, Lady Linnor." Bofur chuckled. "Smashed his head straight to the axe and when he pulled away…well, Bifur here got the better end of the deal."

"No. Seriously?" Linnor pulled away. "Why, it's a miracle!"

"No miracle." Bifur shook his head. "Simply put, the mighty dwarf do not fall."

"We're working on his common speak." Bofur excused his cousin.

"Hmm, bah." Bifur scoffed. "Common. You'll always be sure to find me where the wild things are." He winked, and Linnor laughed, but after a moment, she was surprised by the once maimed dwarf when he presented her with the shattered ax piece.

"What? Really?"

"Yes. To remind you that maybe not everything is hopeless."

Linnor accepted the axe and gingerly placed it in the pocket of the satchel with the rest of her recently acquired tokens.

"Thank you, Bifur."

He grunted, presumably still unused to proper speech - or at least speech that everyone could understand. It must be a uniquely strange feeling, like coming back home after a lifetime of living in an alien world that was almost home, but not quite. Linnor raised her eyebrows at herself. What a strange yet perfect analogy.

"Linnor?"She turned at the slightly unfamiliar voice of Bomber, his wide girth and enormously intricate beard towering next to her. His heavy eyes were shy as he held out a small flask of wine. "Drink with me." he said.

"Alright." Linnor took the nearly empty flask and raised it to her lips. "What are we drinking to?"

"To days gone by." Bomber rumbled. "To the life that used to be. Drink to the wine of friendship, dearest Songbird, and let the wine never run dry."

She smiled at the uncharacteristic poetry of the very large dwarf and sipped the bittersweet wine. When she finished, she tried to hand it back, but he pushed the brown leather flask into her hands. He didn't have to say anything. He simply smiled and she smiled back, and placed the empty cask into another pocket of her bag.

"You know, it's funny." Bomber said once she had done that. "Everyone makes fun of me for eating. And it's true, I am always ready for the next possible meal. I'm like a hobbit that way, I suppose, something my mother and father always joked about while I was growing."

"He's still doing that. Growing. Everyday, another pants size." Bofur cracked.

"But," Bombur shot his brother an exasperated glare, "ever since I met you, Linnor…I haven't been so hungry. I've been full. For maybe the first time in my life."

Linnor could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. If she burst into tears every time one of her friends said something…incredibly sweet, she would never finish her goodbyes in time. And she had to. She had to leave, tonight, with the wizard and the small one.

"And now it's my turn." Bofur stepped forward, and Linnor's resolve not to cry became a whole lot harder as she looked into the kind eyes of the most optimistic dwarf she had ever met. "And I have a question for you, lass."

"Ask away, dear friend." Linnor nodded.

"How do you come up with the songs you sing?"

Linnor could not have been more surprised. Her singing had become sort of a normal occurrence, now a celebrated one, but it was no longer an oddity as it once was so very long ago when she was a new member to the company, everyone basically strangers with one another.

"Well, the same as you all do. I've heard you guys sing. In the woods, and in Rivendell -"

"Ah, but we never made those songs up." Bofur clarified. "The songs we sing have been passed down generation after generation, from father to son, mother to daughter. There are centuries of recorded music we have learned as a part of childhood lessons. But as far back as memory serves, no one has ever simply made up a song. So I want to know - how do you do it? It seems to me very hard."

"Oh, on the contrary, Master Bofur. It's not that difficult at all. Like the flow of a river, things seem to come and go at their own pace: words, melodies, tempos, emotions.

 _When your making up a song_

 _The words you improvise are never wrong._

 _Just jam as many syllables as you can,_

 _before the break._

 _You literally cannot make a mistake!"_

Bofur burst out laughing, which was the whole intent of Linnor's very horrible, yet very funny, improvised song. Though it wasn't her best work, Linnor felt that it properly conveyed her feelings sometimes when it came to just singing on the spot. It was hard sometimes, as if her brain suddenly decided to shut off and let her drown in everyone else's expectations, and the words that came from her mouth weren't ever what she was expecting.

"Ah, miss. It has been a real honor to know you." Bofur bowed, and once again his hat flopped from side to side, the tips touching the ground. Linnor pressed her fingers to her lips to prevent herself from laughing. As he stood up, Bofur slipped the hat from his head and placed it gently on her head.

"Bofur, no." Linnor said softly, almost in awe. "I can't take this. This is yours. Kili told me you had this hat since before he was born. This must be so important to you."

"Keep it." Bofur said. "It'll keep yer head warm."

And there it was. The irrefutable kindness that cam from these dwarves who, for so long, had nothing and yet didn't see their own poverty as cause to be mean or bitter or entitled to anything but a home. It was something so many more people could really learn from. It was something she herself was learning now.

 _"_ _If you got a lot or a lot of nothing_

 _Go ahead and thank God for something_

 _You're gonna see the good if you're good at looking_

 _So go ahead and thank God for something_

 _In the wonder, in the heartache_

 _In the good times and the mistakes_

 _No matter what I am going through_

 _I can always say…"_

"Thank you." Linnor finished, looking at all three of her dear friends. This time, this one time, she let a single tear slip down her cheek as she rested Bofur's signature hat on the top of her head, the brim slipping down over her eyes so all she saw was damp furry darkness.

"Thank you."


	75. Chapter 75: Interlude

**A/N: Time is passing by so quickly! I promise to finish this story before school starts in literally three weeks.**

 **So I do bring a character in from the movies that I had originally taken out. She does not play the same part, so she is a bit OOC. Sorry about that, but this is my story and my brain decided to make this up.**

 **The songs:**

Song of the Sea by Nolween Leroy

Burn from Hamilton.

Broken Frame by Alex and Sierra.

Happily Ever After by He Is We.

True Colors from Trolls.

Disappear from Dear Evan Hansen

 **I do not own anything except the plot at this point and Linnor.**

 **Keep those reviews coming! Thanks you guys, and enjoy this next installment!**

Linnor didn't see anyone else for a long time. She took turn after turn, walked corridor after corridor, went up and down various staircases, but there was no one else. She frowned, trying to quell the small bout of disappointment. She honestly shouldn't have expected everyone to really be waiting around every corner for her. They had probably were off rebuilding their city. But then why were those five…?

A laugh broke through her silent pondering. It was high and musical, like bells in a light summer wind. And though she had never heard it before, Linnor instinctively knew that it was a woman's laugh - more specifically, an elven woman. The laugh came again, and Linnor followed the echo to around the next corner. She peered her head over the side - and was instantly frozen.

The elf closest to her was the female who laughed. She was tall with auburn -red hair that reached far past her waist. She was dressed all in brown and green, so Linnor guessed that she most likely from the Mirkwood court. The mystery woman flipped her long sunset locks over her shoulder, and Linnor was able to see two things. One, the elf lady was carrying to long silver swords over her shoulder. And two, she was talking to somebody. Somebody Linnor knew, and thought had left an hour ago.

After reading his letter to her, Linnor had imagined Legolas pining for her love, confining himself to his duties in the forest until she returned to him. She had imagined a scene straight out of one of her books she used to read in her tower all those months ago in Rivendell. He looked nothing like that now. He was smiling at this tall, perfect elf, speaking to her in rapid elvish, causing her to laugh her tinkling laugh again and again, and he would smile wider, flashing those perfect teeth Linnor had always admired.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Linnor had literally ripped out her own heart, and here he was flirting with this flawless thing. She wanted to cry, but she felt empty instead. She was done with "feeling." She had nothing left to hurt for. Her heart was numb with this new freezing ice, and it seemed to spread to the rest of her, and before her brain could scream at her to stop, she stepped out from around the corner, stomping her boot down to break the two of them apart.

Needless to say, the looks of surprise on the two Mirkwood elves faces was priceless. If it hadn't been so godawful, Linnor might have laughed.

"Oh. pardon me." she said cooly. "I was just passing by. Please, feel free to continue whatever this is after I'm gone."

The elven woman stepped forward. Now that she was closer, Linnor could see that she wasn't as perfect as her mind had made her out to be. Her hair was actually a darker brown with only hints of red, as if the color had been braided through the locks. And her clothes were not so much green and brown anymore, either. The material shimmered and the more Linnor looked at it, the colors seemed to shift and change right in front of her. What she thought was green and brown turned into gold and blue, and then silver and rose. But what really caught her was the woman's face. Something was so familiar in her eyes, the shape of her lips, and it made her pause and drop her cool persona.

"You must be the Princess." the stranger spoke, but all Linnor could do is nod.

"Yes, this is who I was telling you about." Legolas stepped forward, placing his hand on the lady's arm, and there and then, Linnor broke. Her shock was broken and she replaced her mask as she moved to walk past the two.

"Glad to know I've been discussed. Excuse me." Linnor said, ignoring the look of astonishment on her former love's face.

"Linnor!"

"You will address me as Your Highness, or Lady. I am not on intimate terms with someone so…so….manipulative!" Linnor hissed, turning back around so quickly that her bag flew off her back and hit the wall with a soft thud.

"Manipulative?" Legolas gasped, and in that second his own composure broke, and he looked like a fish out of water. The stranger stood back, watching them with a vague sort of interest that only a true outsider could have. Both Linnor and Legolas ignored her, focused only on each other with a mix of anger and astonishment. "What in Valar's name are you talking about? How have I manipulated you? I love you!"

"You love me!" Linnor scoffed. "Believe me, I thought so too. There was a time when I knew you were mine. You said you were mine. I thought you were oh, I was wrong. You, like all elves I presume, have a delicate way with words. Whenever you spoke to me, speaking of stars and light and love, you flooded my senses. Your sentences left me defenseless and you built me palaces out of paragraphs, and oh, the world seemed to burn, Legolas." Linnor softened her voice, almost out of regret. "So when you told me you had given me your heart…was that true? Or just another painting of your words?"

"I don't understand." Legolas said.

"No, you don't. I saw you with her," she pointed at the elf lady, "making her laugh and smiling at her, the way you used to smile at me. You know what, Legolas? If this is what "not giving up on us" is to you, then you forfeit all rights to my heart. I hope that you burn in a fire as hot as Smaug's!"

"What?!"

Linnor had never seen Legolas angry before, and she never wanted to again. It was a terrifying sight to see - his blue eyes darker like water before a powerful storm, and the air around him seemed to harden with a dark energy. His body seemed to suddenly tower above her and Linnor found herself suddenly pressed back against the furthest wall in fear.

"You think me so unfaithful to you, after all we have faced together? After we gave ourselves to each other? After all I confessed? Do you really think so little of me? Well, do you?" he yelled.

"Y-yes." Linnor whispered. "I know what I saw."

"Really?" Legolas said. "Because I doubt that very much, Princess."

Before she could question what he meant, the stranger stepped forward, clearing her throat politely.

"I better introduce myself now before blood is shed. My name, Your Highness, is Tauriel. I am a servant and a warrior in the court of Lord Elrond and Prince Legolas in the Greenwood forest."

"Why are you here?" Linnor asked softly. A flame of guilt was coursing through her, the result of all her unfounded and broken hearted accusations and the realization that she might have just ruined her relationship for good this time.

"I am here," Tauriel said, "because of my sister."

"Your sister?" Linnor said, momentarily distracted from her own problems. "I don't know your sister."

"Indeed, you did." the elf said gently. "Though she and I never really had much in common. And I did lose touch with her for nearly seventy years, which explains why I am so late in coming."

"Does it?" Linnor snapped. "Please, for those of us who are not so enlightened, would you care to explain yourself a bit further?"

"Certainly, Your Highness." Tauriel bowed, and though she couldn't tell, Linnor was almost sure she was being mocked. "My sister and I grew up together in Lord Thranduil's court. Mirkwood. It was our home through all of our youth and well into our new age adulthood. But she became restless. It is common amongst our people, to have a wanderlust. I see that you have begun to feel the longing, too." she eyed Linnor's pack with slight distaste. "So my sister left, leaving me as the last of our family to reside in Mirkwood. And I never knew what had become of her. Until now."

A voice whispered in the back of Linnor's mind, so achingly familiar.

 _You look more of one of my court than that of Imladris._

"About sixty years ago, I received word that my sister had taken up a residence in Lord Elrond's court of Imladirs. I do not know what happened to her over the long years she was missing to have her cause to ask residency with that flowery waterfall moon reader, but nevertheless, I was glad to hear she was alive. Since then, I received annual word of her, without her knowledge from my source, who I will not disclose. But then, it all stopped. And I had to know why. So I set out for Imladris, but when I arrived, I was told that she, and her daughter, had gone. I never knew about any daughter. But I had to find out. So I've been following her steps, and yours, to reach this moment now. To see you, and tell you what I've heard."

The more Tauriel spoke, the more certain Linnor became of her suspicion. It made sense, all of it now, and Thraduil's voice in her head was ringing over and over.

"Your sister," Linnor whispered, "was my mother?"

"Ciranel." Tauriel nodded. "My younger sister."

"So what was it you needed to tell me?" Linnor finally looked at this woman, her aunt, she supposed, in her eyes, which were a deep rich auburn, like the color of her hair in the sun.

"You are the daughter of the moon and the fire." Tauriel spoke. "I have learned so much as I tracked my sister and you, and though I was too late to see Ciranel one last time, I can see you now. You don't look much like her, but you have her spirit for certain. I guess I simply needed to see her in you, after so much time. And to say to you that I am here. You deserved to know that I was here, another family member out in the wide world for you to find, when you are ready."

Tauriel bowed once more, this time with more genuine feeling, and then she turned the corner and was gone, leaving Linnro shell shocked, and Legolas, still fuming in anger. She was frozen, trying to absorb this final explosion of information. How had this come to be? How had Tauriel finally found her? How-

"So, now that we have clarified that my one and only heart still belongs to you, would you care to explain why you shouted those obscenities at me?" Legolas said coldly, turning to face her, his blue eyes full of anguish. It was the kind of hurt she had expected from him earlier, though it was justified now as well.

"I was jealous. And…afraid." Linnor admitted at last.

"What are you afraid of?" Legolas said, far more quieter than he was before. He came and took on of her hands in his, linking their fingers together. "That I'll leave you? You're already doing that Linnor, but I am not unfaithful. I'd come with you if I thought you'd let me."

"Why haven't you asked?" Linnor said. "How did you know I'd say no?"

"Because Tauriel was right. The wanderlust is evident, and I know this journey will be something you undertake alone. Maybe I will join you, someday. But not now. I understand that. But you still haven't answered my question."

Linnor sighed. Her feelings were beyond messed up now, and she wasn't sure she could say what she had to without ruining things further, or making herself more confused.

"I don't honestly know how to explain, and I know I'm saying that way to much, but it's the truth. I love you, Legolas, and you have my whole heart forever, but with your hand in mine, I have the feeling that this is right but at the same time, it's just not us. I don't know. I know you love me, and I know that I love you, but suddenly, it's like I don't believe it. Maybe it's because of everything that's been going on, but I need space to reaffirm myself. Because if i don't, it's all going to change and slip away from me.

 _The light at the tunnel is a fire engrained,_

 _the stars that we wish on, are only little things_

 _The love that we're chasing is a heartbreak away_

 _so we're picture perfect_

 _in broken frame"_

"Linnor, look at me please." Legolas placed two slim fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. Before she had time to react, he had pressed his lips to hers for a split second before he pulled away, leaving herr wanting and yearning for…something. "My darling. I love you as the star shines. Never forget that. Ever."

Linnor nodded, still reveling in the feeling of his lips on hers.

 _"_ _Let me riddle you a ditty,_

 _it's just an itty bitty little thing on my mind._

 _About a boy and a girl trying to take on the world_

 _one kiss at a time._

 _Now a funny things about, ain't a story without, but the story is mine_

 _and I wish you could say,_

 _that it ended just fine._

 _Oh happily ever after, wouldn't you know, wouldn't you know_

 _Oh, skip to the ending, who'd like to know, I'd like to know_

 _Author of the moment, can you tell me_

 _Do I end up_

 _Do I end up happy?"_

Linnor finished, thinking hard about what she had sung.

"I just wish I could see ahead into what was coming." she said finally. "I just want to know that everything will be perfect, eventually. Instead, I'm left feeling…nothing. Just uncertain and lost."

Neither of them spoke for the longest time. Linnor wondered what he was thinking, and if he would, after all, try to come with her, if only to try and keep her sane as she spiraled out of control. The last thing she expected now was for him to take a turn at singing, but when he did, she felt her heart fall for him all over again. There was just something about his voice that made everything clear to her, like his voice could wipe fog from the air and dark clouds from the sky.

 _"_ _You with the sad eyes_

 _Don't be discouraged_

 _Oh I realize, it's hard to take courage_

 _In a world full of people_

 _You can lose sight of it all._

 _The darkness inside you_

 _Can make you feel so small."_

Surprisingly, he captured her very feelings immediately. The wave of guilt for her earlier actions overwhelmed her and she ducked her head in sudden shame. She didn't deserve him.

"Hey." he nudged her, and his lips pressed to the side of her head soothingly. "Show me a smile, then, huh? Don't be unhappy. Please? I can't even remember when I last saw you laughing. I know this world makes you crazy, but promise me that when you've taken all you can bear, you send for me, because I will be there. I will always be there. But you haven't gotten there yet, sweet Linnor. Everything will work out in the end. You'll see."

"I promise." She said, and a tiny smile played at the edge of her mouth, though it died before it could develop further. This time Linnor was the one to press her lips to his, though it was mostly to steady herself and revel in his affirmed love for her. As she pulled away, he wrapped her into his arms.

"I wish you would stay with me, though." he whispered to her, and his voice broke slightly at the word "stay". Linnor pressed her face into the soft clothing at his chest. "You could come with me to where the moon is made of gold, and in the morning sun, we would be sailing. You could come with me where the ocean meets the sky and as the clouds roll by, we'd sing the song of the sea."

"That sounds lovely, Legolas." Linnor sighed, just picturing a small grey ship sailing off into where the sun set over the legend Grey Lands, the world beyond this one. "I wish I could go. What is the song of the sea?"

 _"_ _Hush now, my Storeen_

 _Close your eyes and dream_

 _Waltzing the waves_

 _Diving the deep._

 _Stars are shining bright_

 _The wind is on the rise_

 _Whispering words of long lost lullabies"_

His high tenor sang to her, and she felt her body relax into the familiar shape of him.

"Legolas, one day we will go. I promise you that. It sounds perfect."

"I am going to hold you to that promise, love." Legolas said lightly, but he pulled away from her. "You will most likely be on your journey for a long, long knows when we will cross paths again. It could be in a month, or a year, or sixty years, or a century from now. I do not wish to disappear from your life."

"You won't." Linnor said firmly.

"If you can somehow keep thinking of me and make me more than an abandoned memory, well, that means I matter. Doesn't it?" Legolas said, and in that moment, Linnor realized that she had been terribly selfish. She had only ever thought about her own fears with the future. She had never really taken into account how Legolas must be feeling. He was afraid, too, for her, and for them.

"Legolas, -"

"No one deserves to be forgotten." he said. "When you live as long as we will, it is hard either way. Hard to remember, and hard to forget. But no one deserves to fade away. No one should come and go and have no one know he was ever even there. No one deserves to disappear."

"And you won't." Linnor pressed her hand to his cheek. "If I can promise anything, I promise that."

"Thank you, Princess." Legolas said, and he stepped away from her. "I hope to meet you one last time before you leave."

"Legolas…?" Linnor looked after her love in confusion.

"The others are waiting to say their goodbyes as well. This was an interlude of sorts, I suppose, to clear things up between us, and to give you the final piece of the puzzle." Legolas shrugged. "Go."

And with that, Linnor turned and left her only lover standing in the light of the city, looking after her as she took the next corner and disappeared.


	76. Chapter 76: Goodbye (Part 3)

**A/N: Six chapters left, and that includes and epilogue. Did the last chapter shock you? It shocked me, and I'm the one who freaking wrote it! Sometimes my mind decides to write whatever it wants and even I have no idea what to expect. So by this point, no one knows what's happening.**

 **The songs below are:**

Who I'd Be from Shrek The Musical.

Keep Holding On by Avril Lavigne.

While The World Let Go by A Rocket To The Moon.

For Forever from Dear Evan Hansen

If I'm Gonna Fall In Love by A Rocket To The Moon

 **Let the goodbyes continue! And also the reviews.**

* * *

Linnor pushed the brim of Bofur's hat up higher on her head. She had forgotten she was still wearing it. For a second, she worried that she had looked like a complete buffoon in front of her mother's sister, but it was too late now. Besides, what she looked like shouldn't really matter. Linnor was a Princess, the blend of three different worlds - Imladrian, Greenwooded, and Ereborian. The blend of Elf and Dwarf. She knew better than anyone that looks and appearance don't amount to much. It barely scratches the surface. With that thought in mind, she set the hat more confidently on her head as she headed down the next staircase.

Was she really this high up in the mountain? She hadn't thought so, but maybe she was still reeling from her last encounter. Linnor thought about Oin, and his gift of his smashed trumpet, Gloin's locket, Bofur's hat and Bombur's flask and Bifur's ax. Even Tauriel had given her a gift - another person who truly knew her mother, once. And Legolas had given her his love. What else was she to receive?

As if in answer to her thoughts, Linnor finally found more of the original company. Dori, Nori, and Ori stood anxiously by one of the entrance ways in front of her. Now she knew where she was - right by the treasury. She was getting closer to the front gates. Hopefully Gandalf and Bilbo hadn't left yet. She needed them to get back across the wilderness she had traveled.

"There she is, lads." Dori said as she approached. "Our lovely Lady."

Linnor had always liked Dori. He was one of the simpler dwarves, with his tightly braided beard wrapped securely round his head. His brother, Nori, too had a simple star shaped design to his hair, and Ori, as one of the youngest, didn't really have much to work with in the first place. The brothers Ri were certainly more tame than the rest of the crew, but that just made them easier to be around. Indeed, Linnor already felt at ease with these three.

"Hello, Dori. Hello, Nori. Hello, Ori." Linnor smiled. "I'm glad I found you."

"So are we." Nori said. "We worried maybe you took a different staircase and that we would miss you after all and that we'd be the only ones who wouldn't get to say goodbye."

"I'm here now, though." Linnor said.

"Yes." Dori said, and he shuffled his feet nervously. "And I wanted to be the first one of us to say, Lady Linnor, that you will be greatly missed. We know you are most likely leaving with Master Gandalf and Master Bilbo, and though we know you will be more than capable of taking care of yourself, I fear that there are those of us who may not live to see your return. If you even choose to return. I mean, after everything, who could blame you -"

"Dori. Dori, calm down." Linnor reached out and pressed her hand to the dwarf's cheek. "Of course I will come back. I will not disappear forever. Erebor is my home. But everyone deserves the chance to leave home and discover the world for themselves. That's all I am doing."

"I'm just afraid for you." Dori said. "What if you find something out there that's more than you can handle? Or what if we need you, and you've just vanished? Fili couldn't handle losing you, too. And me, well, I don't know if you know this, but I have never felt comfortable being alone, and -"

"I don't know what you're saying, Dori." Linnor hushed. "You're not alone. You have me, the others, your brothers. You are cared for. I know a lot has changed in these few days, but you should know that if I am ever needed, I will be by your side and I'll take your hand. I will fight and defend always with you. Can you do me a favor?"

Dori nodded his head, and as Linnor looked closer, she could see strands of hair slipping from their usually perfect braids. Dori was really falling apart at the seams. It was only a matter of time before the eldest brother of Ri completely lost it.

"Keep holding on, Dori. We'll make it through. Just stay strong, and know that I am here for you, just like you've always been here for me. Things will turn out all right in the end."

"Do you really have to go, Linnor?" Nori said, stepping forward. "I mean, after all we've been through fire and smoke, and through it all, we kept a hold of hope while the world let go. And that was because of you. You were why we kept a hold of hope. Because you never lost it. There has never been anyone like you, Linnor. You have held us together from the beginning, and with you gone…."

"Nori." Linnor gave the notorious thief a small smile. "If things were different, I promise that we could watch the world go by, falling like stars in the sky. But things aren't different. I am leaving. And I will miss you, and you, Dori, and you, Ori, with all of my heart."

"Then, here." Dori held out his hand. In his palm were several beads: blue and rose and gold and green. A dark string was threaded through them, making a small circlet just big enough for her wrist. "A few of us gave up our beads to make this for you."

"You gave up your beads?" Linnor gasped. "But those represent -"

"All the deeds we have completed in life." Dori finished for her. "This one, this was mine. I got it for my peaceful mind. This one there was Balin's for all his wisdom. This here, Bofur's for his music talents. This one was Kili's for his youth and charm. And that one," Dori pointed to the gold bead, "was Thorin's, for his undying love for his family. We all decided that you represent all of this, Linnor. You represent all of us."

She didn't know what to say. All she could do was lift out her hand and have Dori slip the bracelet onto her wrist. It fit in the way that something born for you was meant to fit.

"Thank you." Linnor whispered.

"Thank you, Linnor." Dori smiled. "For being so wonderful and sweet - sweeter than a hobbit's brandy, if I might dare to say."

"And my gift," Nori said, reaching into one of his many pockets, "is something that belongs to you anyway." He pulled out a thin white chain with a silver white pendant hanging from it. The pendant glowed with a pure silver light and around it twisted a ice blue wire, almost in the image of a fairy.

"I know that necklace." Linnor exclaimed. "That belongs to Arwen, Lord Elrond's daughter. You stole this from her in Imladris?"

"Well," Nori cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, it was rather beautiful. And unlikely that a dame like her would miss such a trinket. But after thinking about it, and knowing where you come from and where your journey might lead you, I wish to return this. And to apologize. I thought it was going to be the best thing I ever stole. But I was wrong. The best thing I ever stole..is you, Linnor."

Linnor took the necklace gently from Nori's outstretched hand. She remembered the first time she had ever seen Arwen wearing this very pendant. The beautiful lady had told her that her father had given it as a gift to her mother, and the symbolism of it was that there person who carried it also carried the giver's heart.

Arwen would be pleased to have it returned to her, so perhaps, one day, she would be able to pass it on to the man she found to carry her heart.

"Thank you, Nori, for returning this. I will tell Lady Arwen of your apologies." Linnor nodded her thanks and placed the necklace safely around her own neck. Nori nodded back to her, and then looked at his elder brother. There was a sort of communication between then that went unspoken, and suddenly the two of them were walking away swiftly, leaving Linnor gaping after them in confusion. "What on Middle Earth -?"

"I asked them to do that, Miss." Ori spoke, and Linnor realized that it was just the two of them alone now. "I asked them to leave so that I could say what I had to in private. I don't need my brothers leaning over my shoulders all the time. It's embarrassing."

Linnor was reminded of how Thorin and Fili and Kili would act when they were traveling. She completely understood overprotective and overcurious relations. Perhaps not as well as Ori did, but she at least had a reference point.

"Alright, Ori. What is it you wished to speak to me about?"

"What did you want to be when you grew up when you were a young girl?" Ori said after a long pause. The question took her by surprise, and Linnor spent a minute just opening and closing her mouth. "Or I guess, the better question would be, if you could be anything or anyone, what would you be?"

"I guess I've never really thought about it before, Ori." Linnor said. "How about you? What would you be?"

"I guess I'd be a hero." the young dwarf said wistfully. Linnor remembered that his weapon of choice had always been the slingshot, and while the others were usually off fighting, he was scribbling away in his leather journal. "With sword and armor clashing, looking semi-dashing, and a shield within my grip. I'd live a life of daring, and I'd sail away and see the world and reach the farthest reaches like all the legends do. That's who I'd be."

He paused and looked at his hands, and she saw the journal he held so dear in his palms. There was more to his wanting than he let on.

"Or..?" Linnor pressed.

"Or I could be a poet, and write a different story. One that tells of glory, and wipes away the lies. And to the skies I'd throw it, and the stars would do the telling. The Moon would help with spelling, of course, I'm not that good with words, and Night would dot the "i's". I'd write a verse, recite a joke with wit and perfect timing. I could never do that like Fili and Kili could. I'd share my heart confess the things I yearn, and do it all while rhyming." Linnor laughed, thinking how if he could only hear himself, the words he was saying so close to a tragic song, than maybe he wouldn't have to wish for so much.

"But you already are a poet, Ori." Linnor nudged his shoulder, and he huffed with amusement.

"Yes, I suppose. So I would be a hero, and if my wish was granted, life would be enchanted. Or so the stories say, I suppose. I would scale a tower, or slay a Dragon or an Orc and save a hot-house flower and carry her away. I'd get the girl, and remove my helmet and we'd speak of love and I'd find my destiny. That's who I'd be." The longing in his voice was so powerful that a few tears escaped without her consent and trailed quickly down her cheeks. Ori was by far the most innocent of their entire group. She wanted so badly to give him the world, because that's all he ever gave anyone else.

"Ori, don't you see that you already are a hero?" Linnor said. Ori scoffed and moved away, probably thinking she was making fun of him, but she held him in place. "Hear me out. Yes, you may not have the traditional weapon of choice, and you might prefer the more cozy things in life, and you may be seen more on the sidelines than on the training grounds, -"

"Not seeing the uplifting part, yet." Ori groused.

"But," Linnor admonished, "on this journey alone, you have faced trolls and orcs and wargs and Men and Elves and giant spiders and a dragon and faced an entire bloody massacre of a war to defend your home. Now, you may not have won a maiden's heart because of that, but you have won the honor and respect of your are a hero, Ori. Just maybe not the traditional one."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, just sitting on the floor in the hallway, leaning against one another's shoulder.

"Now it' my turn to tell you a story." Linnor said. "Back in Rivendell, although I was kept away from everyone most of the time, there were days when I was allowed out and into the courtyards of the palace. Usually I was with my mother or even one of Elrond's children. Elladan and Arwen were the two I most often saw. They were the ones who taught me how to climb trees, and to reach for the highest branches. We would always climb the ones planted in the courtyards, Arwen calling to me from high above, and Elladan below me in case I fell. But I never did. And we reached the top."

"What did you see?"

"All we see is sky, for forever. and we'd sit for hours and let the world pass by, for forever. Being up that high, untethered, it felt like we could go on for forever. We'd just talk and take in the view."

"It sounds nice."

"It was." Linnor mused, lost in the memories of those few days where she would chase after her two friends. This was before Arwen had to succumb to her duties as the Lord's daughter, choosing a suitor and learning her lessons. And before Elladan was always off with his brother and the other guards, hunting and riding horses. Before both of them all but forgot about her and left her alone.

"You know, I come from an empty town, far away from these city sounds. But I'd like to settle down someday." Ori sighed. "Hearing you talk of family and such makes me wish for it, wish for a pretty dwarves girl to come along and giggle and look at my drawings and knit sweaters with me."

"You'll find that one day, Ori." Linnor assured. "She's out there."

"I'm going to take my time, though." the young dwarf said, with a determined air that she didn't expect from him. "Make sure that the feeling's right. If I'm going to fall in love, like the love you have or what your parents had, it's got to be more than just enough for me."

"And that's exactly right, Ori." Linnor smiled, moving to stand.

"Wait! I have to give you my goodbye present." Ori scrambled to his feet. He paused, looking at her with a nervous excitement, before shoving his leather journal at her.

"Ori!" Linnor fumbled the crumpled book. "This is yours. All of your drawings and pictures, the things you wanted to show the rest of your people. The whole adventure…"

"I have that one, miss. This is a different one. One I made especially for you.' Ori said shyly, looking now down at his boots. Linnor, confused, quickly unclasped the latch and opened to the first page.

"Oh my…."

It was a startling likeness of Bilbo, like the one in Ori's original journal. Except in this one, Bilbo was crying, with tears streaming down his face and an acorn cupped in the palm of his hand. The next page was Balin, his hair burnt and ragged, a smudge across his cheek. Then Dwalin, looking ferocious and his mouth open in what she assumed to be a battle call. Dori, grinning with a small cup of something steaming. Nori, winking at her from the tan page. Ori himself, smiling simply. Oin, waving his ear trumpet. Gloin, asleep. Bifur, laughing. Bombur, eating a sausage. Bofur, playing his wooden flute. Fili, wearing the ironwork crown. Kili, grinning his old trademark grin. Thorin, standing tall and majestic. And then there was a picture of Thorin and his nephews together, smiling and looking at home with each other. There was a picture of the mountain across the lake, and of Laketown, and of Bard and his children standing together. There was a picture of her mother, as if she was asleep, but Linnor knew it was from the funeral table. So many pictures of the people she had met, of the places they had gone through. There was Thranduil and Legolas and Gandalf….

"Ori," Linnor's lip quivered with suppressed emotion. "This is beautiful. So beautiful. I love it."

"There's only one person missing." Ori said softly.

"Who? I thought I saw everyone."

"You."

"Oh."

"It's not that I didn't sketch it." Ori said hurriedly. "I did. But I kept it, so that I wouldn't ever forget your face."

Linnor couldn't resist any longer - she reached over and pulled the younger dwarf into a tight, tight hug. She let more tears of happiness leak down her face and into the fabric of the sweater he was wearing.

"I will miss you so much, Ori."

"I'll miss you too, Lady Linnor."

"So much.'


	77. Chapter 77: Goodbye (Part 4)

**A/N: So many updates, so little time.**

 **The songs below are:**

You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen.

Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons.

Proud Mary by Tina Turner

A Change in Me from Beauty and the Beast.

Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen

 **I realize that I forgot to add disclaimers in many chapters so as a reminder:**

 **I do not own any songs that are used in any of these chapters. All credit goes to the artists. I do not own The Hobbit, or LOTR, or any such person, place or thing. All credit goes to J.R.R. Tolkien, who is a literary genius. The only characters of my own creation have been cited (Linnor and Ciranel/Faolan).**

 **Thanks for all the love and support. Please continue to review.**

* * *

Fili stood in front of the gates to Erebor, waiting anxiously for Linnor to arrive. Gandalf and Bilbo were standing off to the side, chatting in low voices. They were the last three she would meet, and he wondered if maybe the elf lad had gotten it wrong. Maybe she wasn't leaving today. Maybe she had changed her mind. He sighed. If he knew Linnor (and he dared to say that he did), then she wouldn't wait. She would leave, and she would leave by this gate. She was just taking her dear, sweet time about it.

"Fili." Gandalf said, making his own slow way over to where the anxious king stood.

"Is she coming? Is it now?" Fili scrambled to where the wizard was approaching, trying to smooth his brow and his mustache all at once, his eyes flitting all round the entrance way for any sign of his younger cousin.

"Quiet yourself led. No, she isn't here yet. I simply wished to talk with you." Gandalf said with not a little exasperation. Fili couldn't blame him at being annoyed. He had been nervous and jittery all morning, trying to remember what it was he had to say, what he told himself was for the best and to try not to fall back into that nagging pit of darkness and despair.

"Oh." Fili breathed. "Yes?"

"You will be fine without her." the old wizard smiled as Fili's jaw literally dropped. He hastily regained his composure with a subtle glare at his old friend. "Yes, I knew what you were thinking. I believe all of us did, except Linnor herself. But what have to to fear? What have you to weep for?"

"What have I…" Fili could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Gandalf, my family..my brother and my uncle….and all you say is what have I to weep for?" He scoffed and could feel himself becoming angry, though a part of him cautioned to be still and rational, not to be as reckless as his brother was in everything in life.

"All I mean," the grey man said sternly, "is that you have grieved, have you not, for the loss of life. But have you weeped for yourself, young man? Weep for yourself, my King, and because you'll never be what is in your heart."

"And what, may I ask, would that be?" Fili said meekly.

"In control." Gandalf said kindly, and with a knowing glint in his surprisingly bright eyes. "Everything is different now, and certainly not what you could have expected when you started this ridiculous thing. You're not as brave as you were at the start, little lion man. But you are older and wiser and stronger. Take all the courage you have left and use it to let her go and figure out her own quest."

"How did you come to be so wise?" Fili asked after he let the words the wizard said sink into his mind. Everything Gandalf said was true, and Fili knew he was, but it seemed so hard to really accept, especially now when all he wanted was to keep everyone he cared about close to him, where he could see them and keep them safe. But short of locking her in her room, Fili knew he had no control over the will and whims of his cousin. And he would never do that to her, never add himself to the list of people who tried to save her by locking her away like a fragile doll.

"Wise?" Gandalf laughed. "King Fili, half of what I've learned has come from my plentiful mistakes. And I'm afraid this is simply another one of them. If I hadn't left you in the forest, we wouldn't have had so much trouble with Thranduil, I do not think. Of course, the orcs were unprecedented, but still. Perhaps the way into Laketown would have been less barred, and perhaps Kili would not have been so weakened. There are so many consequences for my one action, and I have only learned that I am not always in control, no matter how hard I try to be. It is the only lesson really worth learning, in the end."

* * *

Linnor finally figured it out as she turned the next corner, after leaving Ori with his brothers again, and saw Balin and Dwalin waiting for her at the top of the staircase that led to the front gates of Erebor.

"How did you all manage to do this?" Linnor asked as she approached the oldest member of the company. "I only decided to leave a few hours ago, and there all of you are, stationed like some secret mystery puzzle. How did you know?"

"You can thank that suitor of yours, dearie." Balin smiled. "He came and rounded us all up, told us what you had said to him and convinced us to let you leave as you wanted. Fili was a hard sell, but eventually he saw that you had the right to your own quest, one that you discovered for yourself. But we couldn't let you disappear without proper goodbyes."

Legolas had done this. Linnor was stunned for what felt the hundredth time that day. After everything, this was all his doing. He let her say goodbye to everyone she cared about, in her own way. And his, she supposed. No matter where or when, Linnor promised herself that the next time she saw him, she would leap into his arms and kiss him breathless.

"Balin…" Linnor sighed and came to hug her dear friend. "I am sorry to be leaving you all after all that's happened. But there's been a change in me. A kind of moving on. I am not the same girl who leapt out her bedroom window to meet a ragtag band of dwarves, though i still depend on that girl I was, in a way. I depend on her endless optimism that something out there calls to me."

"There's a lot of bad out there, too." Balin cautioned. "Like I've told Bofur a thousand times, sometimes even the most positive outlook cannot shade the horrible things the world has come to create. I hope you know that what you've been through may have been some of the worst of it, but it certainly wasn't the end."

"Yes, I know that." Linnor amended. "But I also know that good can come from bad. And maybe thinking that way may not make me wise, but it makes me glad, Balin. You know why? When I was a girl in Rivendell, I always dreamed of finding a family and a happily ever after and a place where I could run outside and travel and live in the big bright and beautiful world and just be happy. I never thought about how hard it was out here, or how dangerous, or that I would be broken over and over and over again. I didn't think that the real world would hurt this much. I never thought I would have to leave behind my childhood dreams. But you know, now that I've gone through it all and I am standing where I am standing, I don't mind, because I love the world I see."

"A change of heart, then." Balin said, but Linnor was already shaking her head, with a little huff of laughter.

"No change of heart, my friend. A change in me."

Dwalin let out a hearty laugh, and it was a remarkably pleasant sound to hear, mostly since it was a sound that she hadn't heard in so very long. Possibly not since they had left Beorn's house.

"Ah, dear girl. You don't know how nice it is to see you like your old self." he chuckled, and Linnor sent a charming smirk to him.

"I could say the same about you, Master Dwalin."

"Indeed, lass. I know I haven't been the same…for a while now." Dwalin sighed. "It's been hard, without Thorin. And Fili, honestly, hasn't been the same without his little brother. And I do miss that reckless spirit. We all have been kind of….at a loss with ourselves, Princess. As if there is this crushing weight upon us that we haven't been able to lift. Not until now, that is."

"Dwalin…" Linnor frowned at her aggressive friend. She was really at a loss for words. "I…I am so sorry. I had no idea you were feeling this way. If I had known…" but she had nothing to add. What good would it have done if she had known? What would she had said? Would it have made a difference at the time?

"Princess, have you ever felt like nobody was there?" Dwalin asked her, and Balin, too, looked at her in question. "Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear, or you could fall and no one would hear?"

Linnor paused and actually stopped to think.

She thought about being locked away in the tower of Rivendell, of having no visitors except every once in a while. She thought of the times when she wondered whether anyone actually knew about her, whether it would matter to any one if she one day decided to jump from the balcony, and not in the way she had. She thought of her darker days of depression and loneliness. She thought of being taken by the spiders in the wood, screaming but unsure if she had made the sound loud enough to be heard. She thought of being locked away again in Mirkwood, trapped by a cage and her emotions. She thought of her uneasiness and her vision if fire, of her mother's death, of her cousin and her uncle, of being locked away in Erebor again. She had spent her whole life without anybody, in a way, as if she was a forgotten character in a storybook that was only now being written into creation.

"Yes." she whispered. "I have."

"We have been feeling like that for the second time in our long lives." Dwalin said. "The first time was when Smaug drove us from the mountain sixty years ago, when we became wandering nomads. It was a lonely time then, and it is the same now."

"No, it isn't." Linnor's reply was sharp, and she looked at the dwarf in front of her, her bright eyes boring into his dark, shadowed one. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay, without me, and without them."

"It would be nice to believe you, Linnor," Dwalin huffed, "But there is no reason to. We have a leader now, but what happens when grief eventually takes Fili from us? Who will lead? Dain? Dis? No…we will be forgotten again."

 _"_ _Let that lonely feeling wash away._

 _There will be a reason to believe you'll be okay_

 _Cause when you don't feel strong enough to stand,_

 _You can reach_

 _Reach out your hand."_

And she did just that to her two friends as she sang, taking their callused and stout hands in her smoother ones.

 _"_ _Even when the dark comes crashing through_

 _When you need a friend to carry you_

 _When your broken on the ground_

 _You will be found_

 _So let the sun come streaming in_

 _Cause you'll reach up and you'll rise again_

 _Lift your head and look around_

 _You will be found.'_

"These feelings will pass, in time." she said at last. "But in order for them to do that, you have to have faith. You have to believe that things will get better, and you can't give up simply because things are hard now."

"You are speaking wise words for someone your age." Balin said softly. "You may be the wisest of us all, dearest Linnor."

Linnor leaned down slightly and hugged him to her, smiling a sad smile into his vast amount of soft white she pulled back, she turned to Dwalin who was still looking slightly forlorn.

"I believe she is the wisest because of her heart's affection." he said knowingly. "It is a rare thing, to find one's other heart. Maybe there's a Mahal above, but all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot at somebody who outdrew you. As you can see, I am alone. But I imagine it's a lovely thing, yes?"

And Linnor thought again, and she thought about the thrill of finding one's true heart, the fire and passion, but also the heartbreak and the struggle to keep it together, to keep them together through everything. She thought of the tears she had shed, the nights screaming, the loneliness and the longing.

"No. It's not." she whispered, but she wasn't upset. "It's not a cry that you hear at night, and it's not somebody who's seen the light. Love is a cold and it's a broken hallelujah. That's what it is. Difficult and broken for everyone, but what makes it special is the way you and the other person mend those broken pieces."

There was silence between the three of them, but unlike how it was before, this was not an uncomfortable silence. This was the kind of silence shared between friends, friends who were remembering things to precious to share.

"There is a legend, one told to dwarflings when they are small, about the big wheel in the sky." Dwalin said quietly. "It is lit with the fires of the forges of our people, to symbolize strength and rebirth. It is supposed to be the wheel of Mahal, what he uses to raise the righteous warriors to his heaven's gates. It is always and forever turning, and the name it was given was Proud Mary."

"Big wheel keep on turning. Proud Mary keep on burning." Linnor hummed. "What happens next? In this legend?"

"Once Mahal has taken you into his highest halls, he bathes you in the rivers of the sky." Dwalin said, and there was a wistfulness to his voice. "They say the river is actually the night sky, and he cleans you until you are covered in stars. the spirits of your ancestors and our people."

"Why are you telling me this?" Linnor asked quietly.

"The legend usually pertains to dwarves warriors, the mighty men who fall in battle, who have made the heavens proud." Dwalin said. "But I think… I think exceptions can be made."

And it hit her. In his "macho-dwarf-of-few-words" way, Dwalin was trying to tell her that she would see her family again one day, despite her being a woman, and only half a dwarf. He was telling her that Mahal would make stars out of her. That she was a warrior, and one that made all her people proud.

Like she said, Dwalin was a dwarf of few words. Everything she understood came from their friendship and her understanding of him.

"Thorin was proud of you." he said to her, and he reached out to her this time, and gingerly, as if afraid she would break, he hugged her to his bulky frame. "And so am I."


	78. Chapter 78: Goodbyes (Final Part)

**A/N: College starts in three weeks. Can I finish this story before then? We will find out. I'm sorry that these last few chapters are kind of sucky. This is why it's ending. I've almost lost all inspiration. I have enough to end it in four chapters, though. Bear with me.**

 **The songs below:  
** Take a Break from Hamilton.

Sparrow by Jason Grey

I'm Still Standing by Elton John.

Go the Distance from Hercules

Corner of the Sky from Pippin

The Cave by Mumford and Sons.

They Live In You from The Lion King

Glorious by David Archuleta

 **Seriously guys, if you haven't listened to any one of these songs, YouTube is just a click away. I do not own any of these songs, nor do I own The Hobbit, and no profit is being made by me encouraging you to expand your musical repertoire.**

 **Please, please guys, keep reviewing. Anything is possible right now to how this all ends.**

* * *

This is where it had all been leading. Linnor had left Dwalin and Balin standing there, at the top of the stairs, knowing somehow that they wouldn't follow - and they wouldn't eavesdrop, either. This was a personal moment, here, at the end of it all. And yet, it was also a beginning. Weren't endings always like that?

As Linnor descended the staircase, she noticed something odd. What she had been expecting…well, it wasn't where she had been expecting it. Instead of the brightly lit hallway leading to the outside, the whole front entryway was dark and shadowed, as if night had fallen while she was talking to the older brothers. But no…the windows above were lit with the midday sun, and she could hear birds, faintly, still calling behind those heavy closed doors. So night hadn't fallen. What was wrong?

Linnor descended the stairs further, suddenly suspicious and wary of why this one section of the city would seem cut off from the rest of the world. Where was Gandalf? And Bilbo? Where was Fili?

"Hello?"

"Linnor."

At the sound of that voice, Linnor stumbled and fell down the last several steps, landing nard on her stomach. In one second, the wind was knocked out of her and she lay gasping in shock and pain on the cold marble floor, her pack pressing heavily on he shoulders. Slowly, Linnor heaved in a relieving breath, rolling cautiously on her side and slid her gear off her shoulders. Then, she carefully crawled to her knees, her head bowed as she tried to make sense of what she heard.

"Linnor."

There! There it was again. That voice. And suddenly, she felt, rather than heard or even saw, his presence. He was right in front of her, though she didn't dare to raise her head.

"Linnor, talk to me. I can't go until you do."

She swallowed, trying to work around this sudden lump in her throat.

"Kili."

Once again, it was as if she could feel him around her, so she didn't have to see him, or his spirit, to know that he was smiling now. A warmth surrounded her, and she knew that Kili was close.

"Hello, cousin."

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, feeling awed. "Are you here? I don't -"

"Hush…" the once reckless and rowdy in life dwarf said with the air of someone who has wised up greatly to their past mistakes. "I am here, Linnor, but only to you. This will all pass in a moment. But I wished to try and connect with you once before you left, since we didn't have the chance to before I died."

He was right. Linnor had managed to be there before Thorin died, and managed to say goodbye to him then. And she and Ciranel had relayed their parting words. But Kili - he had died almost instantly, held captive by Azog. He had died alone, with none of them there to whisper words of love and forgiveness.

"I am so sorry, Kili." she said, closing her eyes. "I am so, so sorry."

"I know." His voice was sweet, the way it had been in life. "I know, but it wasn't your fault. I wanted to be on this quest so badly, it never occurred to me that I might leave you and my brother behind. I told him this, and now it's time to tell you so you don't make the mistake of running away."

"I'm not -" Linnor gasped, shocked that he would think so little of her.

"Not now." Kili's voice warned her. "But I can see how you feel right now, Linnor, and if you leave with certain things unsettled, then you are in danger of never returning to this home, simply because your mind will tell you not to."

Linnor was silent. She thought about how she had received closure with her friends here, with her friends from Laketown, how she even had received it, in a strange way, from her mother through her mother's sister. Then she thought of how she had those final words with Thorin, and what she was about to say with Fili. And then there was Legolas, who she had exchanged words with, but there was still something unfinished with them. It was more than her yearning feelings. They hadn't really said goodbye. Not yet.

"Don't just walk away from the fears and the faults you've left behind here." Kili said, and another wave of warmth encircled her, and she imagined her cousin's ghost wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It will hurt. But find the strength in pain and change your ways. The journey you will take will help you."

 _So make your siren's call and sing all you want_

 _I will not hear what you have to say_

 _Cause I need freedom now and I need to know how_

 _To live my life as it's meant to be_

The words were not spoken, or sung. Rather, they seemed to come floating out of the darkness and hang behind her closed eyelids.

"Kili.." Linnor sighed, biting her lip. "All I know is that there is something out there for me, and I have to find it. I know I'll never be happy until I do. That's why I'm leaving. I'm not running away."

"But where are you going?" Kili said, and there was a pressing note of urgency in his silver voice. "A journey has a destination. Just walking off with nothing in mind is running aimlessly into the wilderness, something your smart enough to know not to do. So I ask you, where will your journey lead you?"

"I…" Linnor realized blankly that she never had decided where it was that she was heading. All she had figured out was that she would leave with Gandalf and Bilbo, who were supposedly going back to The Shire, but beyond that…she couldn't wander with Gandalf forever. "I don't know."

She was suddenly hit with how much she missed her family. Her cousin and her uncle and her mother and father…all dead and gone, the distance dividing them as great as an ocean.

 _There you are an ocean away._ She thought, imagining she could see their faces in the dark. _Do you have to be an ocean away?_

"Linnor, it's alright." Kili's voice echoed. "I just wanted you to keep that in mind when the light comes."

"Light?" she asked. "What light?"

"Screw your courage to the sticking plate, cousin." He ignored her and kept talking, and something in his voice made her imagine him with that cocky sideways grin he always seemed to have plastered on his face. "Look around at how lucky you are to be alive right now. There's nothing wrong with taking a break, but you have the chance to do more in this life. Remember that, and tell my brother to remember that also."

 _I will._

 _Stay safe._

It was as if the sun had suddenly fallen from the sky and landed right above her. In a flash, the comfortable warmth that had been wrapped around her became unbearable, the heart searing through her clothes and skin and the darkness behind her eyes lit up like Smaug's fire. She gasped and opened them, and all she saw was white. Then - it was over. She was still at the top of the staircase, though Balin and Dwalin were gone, and it was day. It was as if the minutes before this had never happened -there was no darkness, no Kili. Linnor blinked, trying to understand even a fraction of what happened when she heard her name being called. She looked down the flight of stairs to see Gandalf and Bilbo waiting for her at the bottom. Her cousin, King Fili, was no where to be seen.

Slowly, still vaguely disconcerted, Linnor walked down the steps, feeling the now unfamiliar weight of her pack on her shoulders, the thickness of her clothes, the wool of her hat. It was as if she had become hyper aware of everything, every stream of sunlight through the open door, every fleck of ash and dust that flew by on the slightest gust of wind.

"Linnor." Gandalf smiled at her as she finally met them at the bottom step. "I see you have finally come to say goodbyes."

"Actually," she said, blinked as she looked up at the tall wizard, "I'm coming with you and Bilbo."

She had thought that would surprise him, or at the very least, be news to the hobbit. But both of them were still smiling, unsurprised, and she was getting very irritated with everyone knowing all her plans and everything.

"Yes, I know. I figured we'd be your best option to getting where your going." Gandalf said calmly.

"And where exactly is it you think I'm going?" Linnor huffed, raising a questioning eyebrow at the grey man. He smiled at her still, and it was in the infuriating way and she knew he wasn't going to answer her question now, if not ever.

"How are you feeling?"

True to her instincts, the old man avoided her question and posed a new one. She glared at him halfheartedly and lowered her pack to the ground.

"Isn't it obvious, Gandalf?" she snarked, the overwhelmingness of the last day catching up to her suddenly and the weight came crashing on her shoulders. "I'm practically an orphan, a newfound Princess and an all-around half breed, but don't you know I'm still standing. In fact, I'm standing better than I ever did, looking like a true survivor after all this time."

The way he was looking at her rattled her. It was the kind of look that searched your very soul, and she could tell he was trying to see, using all his wizarding wizards-ness whether or not she was telling the truth. It was frustrating, but somehow comforting all the same. It had been a long, long time since anyone took the kind of fatherly (or grandfatherly) interest in her wellbeing. It was the kind of thing that really suited Gandalf, no matter how battle worn or grey he was, and it was also something Linnor had been craving without even knowing. The feeling was nice…and uncomfortable. After a long time, or so it felt, he nodded his head.

"Good. I wouldn't expect anything less."

"So," Linnor cleared her throat, "are we leaving?" She was so ready to get gone and begin a story that was all her own.

"Um," another voice attracted her attention from the wizard, and she looked to the smaller, timid hobbit standing just off to the side. "Well, not quite yet, Linnor."

"What? Why not?" Linnor looked from Bilbo to Gandalf and back again. While the hobbit looked nervous, the wizard was as stoic as ever, with the exception of the charming glint in his hazy eyes.

"You've missed something." Gandalf said. "Or rather, two somethings. And we can't leave until that's been…resolved."

It was eerily similar to what Kili -ghost Kili - had been inferring before in the dark. The problem was, she could barely remember exactly what it was he had said. The light was washing away everything she had learned in the dark. What had he said? What was she missing? What had to be resolved?

"Here's a hint."

The second she turned around to the new voice, she remembered.

"Fili." she whispered. "Legolas."

The two closest things to her heart were standing right behind her, and further back, up on the highest step, the members of their little company were gathered, watching them with sad eyes. The two blonde royalty stepped forward, neither one of them taking their eyes off of her. Slowly, very slowly, they made their way to her until they were standing just before her. If she wanted to, she could reach out a hand and feel the fabric of her love's tunic, or the metal of her cousin's crown. But her hands remained by her side.

"What re you both doing here?" Linnor said. "Legolas, I thought you had left already with your father. And Fili-"

"Did you not think I would not see my cousin off on her next adventure?" Fili scoffed, but his voice was soft. Legolas, too, smirked.

"My father and I made different arrangements for my next location. There is someone I need to find. An old friend. I will be on my own way in a short while. This will be our goodbye." His voice was music to her ears, and she melted just as she had the first time they had ever met. She smiled at him, trying to convey her thanks and love and sadness in one gesture. By the look in his eyes, Linnor knew he had received it.

"Legolas…" Linnor breathed, stepping closer to him, this time actually feeling the cloth on his body, "I am sorry we did not reach our happy ending. I am sorry this is how it must be, for now. I fear that I have made us so broken, so out of touch with each other, that we may never see each other again and it will have been all for naught."

"Hush, dearest." Legolas wrapped his arms around her stout frame, pulling her to him in a gentle hug. One of his hands came up to nestle softly under her hat and in her hair, while the other held her waist. "The Heavens will provide for us. Mahal has his own plan for you. he always has. And as for the rest of your fears, in case you haven't noticed, there is not a single star that's out of place. There's nothing broken he can't remake. Everything is as it should be, even us now. If you long for hope when you're afraid, look at the sparrow."

"The sparrow?" She questioned, trying to connect the dots between what he was saying and the image of the small quick flying bird.

"If Mahal can hold this world, he can hold this moment." Legolas explained. "That is, everything is under one hand - one control. It makes no matter whether it is Mahal or Valar or whatever such. There's not a field or flower - or maiden - that escapes his notice. Even the sparrow knows that. That's why they live their lives gaily."

"What kind of backwards fool thing is he saying?"

Linnor heard Gloin's whisper carry down from where he was standing above them, and she laughed. She laughed hard and long and loud until she heard Legolas's charming lilt join her, and then Gandalf's and Bilbo's until suddenly, it seemed the hall was just full of laughter - rough and rowdy, soft and childish, quiet and suppressed. They were the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard. As Linnor pulled away from Legolas, she was smiling - and so was he.

"Thank you." she said to him, and she leaned up carefully and placed a small kiss to the edge of his lips. "Remember that until we meet again."

Legolas bowed his head to her, and then he turned and bowed politely to Fili. Finally, he looked up and nodded to the crowd of dwarves gathered at the top of the stair. With one last look at Linnor, a look that both mended and broke her worn out heart, Legolas Greenleaf stepped out the open door and back into the world, fading immediately into the shining sun on the horizon. Linnor couldn't look after him. It hurt too much. So instead she returned her attention to the last person she needed to say goodbye to.

King Fili.

Already, her cousin looked worn out and tired. He had lines encompassing the valleys of his fce, and his eyes were faded, and he hadn't even been King for a week yet. His hair, too, looked darker, almost brown instead of the gold she had once admired. Fili stepped forward to her, taking her smaller, smoother hands in his.

"Do you really have to go?" he said, his voice breaking on the last word. Linnor saw the heartbreak in his eyes, how he had honestly thought she would stay there with him, live out a perfect happy ending. "Why can't you stay here? I thought this was where you were meant to be, Linnor. I thought this was your home."

"Oh, Fili." Linnor cupped his cheek in her palm, feeling the scratchiness of his mustache. "I am sorry. It's just…there were a lot of places that could have been my home. And I don't feel like I fit in anywhere I go. I don't think it's me…it's my spirit. I've got to be where my spirit can run free. I've got to find my corner of the sky. Okay? Someplace that's mine."

"But why now? Why not wait until things have settled?" Fili begged.

"I have often dreamed," Linnor said, trying to be as kind as possible to her already frayed cousin, "of a far off place where a great, warm welcome would be waiting for me. A voice keeps saying - this is where I'm meant to be. There's a real home out there, Fili. Maybe it's in the Blue Mountains, maybe it's beyond. I will find my way. I can go the distance. I don't care how far, because somehow I'll be strong. And every mile will be worth my while. I will go most anywhere to feel like I belong."

"You belong here. With your family." Fili said gruffly, and he sounded so much like Thorin then, that it nearly threw her off.

"You are not my only family, Fili." Linnor croaked, feeling her emotions nearly overwhelm her. "I have an aunt in Mirkwood, and an aunt in Ered Luin. I have those who raised me in Imladris. I have you here."

"I…" Fili seemed to be at a loss for words now, and she could see him floundering. Linnor smiled and raised both hands to his face, trying to get him to focus on her.

"It's okay to take a break." Linnor said, Kili's words coming back to her in a rush. "But I know I have the chance to do more in my life than sit here and survive. I want to live - and that's what I'm going to do. But no matter where I go, or who I meet, I will always remember you, and I will come back. I promise. But you have to promise me something in return."

"What is that?"

"You have to remember that you are not alone here, Fili." Linnor pushed. "The others….they are here for you. Dain and his people will be there if you need them. I will be there. And Thorin and Kili-"

"They're gone."

"No, they aren't." Linnor said firmly. It became suddenly extremely important that this message get across to her stubborn cousin before she left. He had to understand. "They are not gone, Fili. They are right here," she touched the place on his chest where his heart would be, "always and forever."

 _They live in you_

 _They live in me_

 _They're watching over_

 _Everything we see_

 _Into the water_

 _Into the truth_

 _In your reflection_

 _They live in you._

 _In every creature_

 _In every star_

 _In your reflection_

 _They live in you_

She watched as those words took root inside his mind - a flicker of a memory crossed over his features, and she remembered when Kili's ghost had whispered that he had already said his words to his brother. Perhaps his ghost has visited Fili the way he had visited her. She hoped so. After several minutes had passed, and she stood watching various emotions pass over her cousin's face until he was calm, Fili finally looked at her. His eyes were clear, and the worn appearance on his face seemed to have vanished.

"I wish I knew where you were going, in case I ever wished to find you." he sighed, and it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her mind, leaving her feeling as if she might float away at any second. Linnor couldn't resist smiling widely in her gracious excitement, but she held back slightly in order to finish this goodbye properly.

"Oh, Fili. Don't ask where I'm going, but instead listen when I'm gone. And far away you'll hear me singing softly to the dawn. You'll see me again. And if you ever truly need me, I will find a way back. I promise."

"You keep yours." Fili said, his voice stronger now than it had been moments before. "And I will keep mine."

They shared one last hug, gripping each other tightly until they both knew that they couldn't hold on any longer. Linnor pulled away and looked at her cousin, someone she had never known until a few months ago, and then to the people staring down with sad smiles. Her friends. Her family. As much as she told herself tat this was only a new beginning, it felt so much like the end. She couldn't just leave like this…

 _"_ _There are times when_

 _You might feel aimless_

 _And can't see the places_

 _Where you belong_

 _But you will find that_

 _There is a purpose_

 _It's been there within you_

 _All along_

 _And when you're near it_

 _You can almost hear it_

 _It's like a symphony_

 _Just keep listening_

 _And pretty soon you'll start_

 _To figure out your part_

 _Everyone plays a piece_

 _And there are melodies_

 _In each one of us_

 _Oh, it's glorious_

 _And you will know how_

 _To let it ring out_

 _As you discover_

 _Who you are_

 _Others around you_

 _Will start to wake up_

 _To the sounds that are_

 _In their heart_

 _It's so amazing_

 _What we're all creating_

 _It's like a symphony_

 _Just keep listening_

 _And pretty soon you'll start_

 _To figure out your part_

 _Everyone plays a piece_

 _And there are melodies_

 _In each one of us_

 _Oh, it's glorious_

"It's glorious." Linnor whispered, and then she turned and vanished into the rising sun, with Gandalf on one side, and Bilbo on the other.


	79. Chapter 79: Calls Me Home

**A/N: These are the last three chapters. Make a note: THREE.**

 **The songs below are:**

Quiet Uptown from Hamilton.

I See The Light from Tangled.

Goodbye Forever by Us the Duo.

I Smile by Avril Lavigne.

Lost and Found by A Rocket To The Moon

Thinking of You by Christian Kane

Something to Believe In from Newsies.

Standing By by Pentatonix

Wherever You Go by A Rocket To The Moon

Calls Me Home by Shannon LaBrie

 **Thank you guys so much for all your support. I really doubt this story would have gone far without your follows, your favorites, and your reviews. Each one I get pushes me to do you all justice. I hope I've done that.**

* * *

They spent half the day just walking in silence. Gandalf and Bilbo were walking together just slightly ahead of her, but Linnor made no move to catch up. As long as she could see them, she allowed herself to take her time for the first time in her life. There was no need to rush. She would get where she needed in her own due time. Linnor grinned to herself. That sounded so nice. At last, Gandalf announced that they should stop and make camp, as the sun was finally starting the set and the reddish hue of the darkening sky was giving way to shadows and night. It didn't worry her, however, as it once might have. Linnor had seen so much evil these last few months, she doubted there was anything left to scare her.

After the war, she doubted there was anything evil left alive anywhere in a thousand mile radius of Erebor anyways.

She and Bilbo both set their packs down and started gathering firewood while Gandalf did a precautionary check of their surroundings. Old habits certainly did die hard. Finally, with a fire set and with a meal of rationed bread and cheese and wine (given to them by Bombur before that had left, along with some fruit that Gandalf had received from Elrond), the three companions settled down for the night.

Except Linnor was settled. She sat up, watching the flickering flames of the fire and the embers sparking off their tips, getting picked up by a simple breath of wind and vanishing into the darkness. She watched Gandalf and Bilbo compare smoke rings, Gandalf always outdoing the poor hobbit with tricks and magic. Linnor smirked as Bilbo once again made an impressive ring, and then Gandalf somehow managed to create a smoke ship that sailed right through it. She sighed, and drew the two's attention to her.

"Everything alright, Linnor?" Bilbo said. His face was mostly in shadow, but what the fire lit up, she could see the concern in his eyes. My, he was sweet. Linnor shook her head, letting her braids fall loose in simple waves around her face.

"It's just…" she wondered if her thoughts would sound weird if she said them out loud. "I was just thinking of all those days I spent watching from the windows. All those years, I wa on the outside looking in - for everything. All that time…never even knowing just how blind I was. To the world, to what was really out here, to…myself and my family. And now I'm here, and I have everything, and I see everything. It's like a fog has been lifted from my eyes and everything is new. I guess I just haven't gotten used to it yet, but I keep waiting for something…bad to happen." she laughed at herself. "It's ridiculous, I know."

"No, not ridiculous. Insightful." Gandalf mused. "We tend to see things in black and white…that is, until the light manages to reveal the shades of grey."

"Well, certainly that's not confusing at all." Bilbo groused good-naturedly.

Linnor smiled and laughed, thinking of how simple ti was now, in the aftermath of everything terrible, that the three of them could be here, with no agenda in mind except to eventually reach the Shire and then…beyond.

* * *

 _She didn't realize she had fallen asleep, at first. Her dream so resembled real life that she never knew the difference. It was as if one moment she was laughing with her friends, and then the next moment, they were fast asleep against the rocks as she watched the dying embers of their fire. Linnor figured that they would need to keep the fire going all night, to ward off anything nasty, so she stood up and with near silent precision, she left their small campsite and wandered off into the nearby woods (was that there, before?) to find more firewood._

 _The deeper she walked , the darker it became until she couldn't even distinguish the trees from the night. She held her arms out in front of her, trying to avoid crashing and bumping, but to her surprise, she never hit a thing. Linnor kept walking, though she had the thought that it was probably in circles now, when a sharp crack made her pause. Someone was in the woods with her._

 _"_ _Gandalf?" she called out. "Bilbo? Is that you?"_

 _No one answered her. Instead, a small flare of light came from off to her right. Linnor sighed. The fire. Gandalf must have lit it using his staff. She headed off in that direction, but the closer she got, the more she could see that the light wasn't from a fire, but rather more of a glow, shaping the outline of a person. And not just any person._

 _"_ _Legolas?"_

 _Her astonishment shook her to the core - also a reason why she couldn't remember that she was dreaming, it was so real - as her elven love came out of the golden light and came to her gently, his feet not making a sound on the wood floor._

 _"_ _Did you miss me, Linnor?"_

 _"_ _We haven't been gone even a day. And why are you here? I thought you said you were going to look for an old friend. You promised me you wouldn't come with me - I told you that the was something I had to do without you."_

 _"_ _So that's a no?" Legolas pouted, and even though it felt wrong - he wasn't her Legolas, he was a dream, and it wasn't the same - Linnor relaxed slightly and melted into his open embrace._

 _"_ _Of course I miss you. You're all I need, always Legolas."_

 _Even though, like she had said, they had been gone only half a day, Linnor had the feeling that it had been a while since everything, or anything, had felt as right as when he held her, and she smiled, rubbing her cheek against his chest, breathing in his scent -_

 _Except there was nothing to smell._

This is a dream.

 _Linnor opened her eyes and for the first time really looked into Legolas's face. The closer she was, she saw that some features were distorted. His eyes were not as blue, his face was not as flawless, and his smile was not as gleaming. Even as he spoke, the musical lilt she had always associated with him seemed off kilter._

That's because it's not him.

 _"_ _Linnor? What is it? What's wrong?"_

 _"_ _This isn't real." Linnor said sadly, pushing him further away. "You're gone. I'm gone."_

 _"_ _I'm right here." Legolas said, moving forward but Linnor held him at bay with her hand raised._

 _"_ _No. I can't do this again."_

 _"_ _Do what again?"_

 _"_ _Say goodbye to you." Linnor's voice cracked, and, dream or not, just the image of him made her heart yearn for the days when all they had was each other and for the nights when she slept dreamlessly in his arms._

 _"_ _Then don't."_

 _"_ _It's just so hard to say goodbye when you're so beautiful." Linnor sighed. "But I know the way I need to end this tragic musical."_

 _"_ _What are you saying?" Dream Legolas asked, and the image of him was blurring more and more now, the darkness was fading as more and more light seeped into her mind. She could hear birds chirping and - was that Bilbo talking?_

 _"_ _Goodbye, Legolas."_

 _The light was getting brighter._

 _"_ _Goodbye."_

* * *

Linnor woke with a start. She could hear the birds chirping, and the rushing of a river that they hadn't heard last night. And there was Bilbo, talking aloud to himself as he packed all of his belongings away. Gandalf sat on a nearby rock, smoking his pipe, his hat pulled down low over his eyes. At Linnor's jerking awareness, he glanced up at her.

"Ah, Linnor. You're awake. Good, good. We can get a move on the day, then, before it gets to hot. It took months to get to Erebor, but I'll be a orc's grandfather if it takes us that long to get back to the shire."

"Do you have an idea then?" Bilbo asked, a hint of excitement in his voice. "When we might be back?"

"Oh, I should dare to guess by the end of the month, if not two weeks more than that. But any longer and we would have run into some sort of trouble I'm sure. But we will cross that bridge when we get to it, and if we need to, burn it after we cross."

So the company of three (and what an odd company it was indeed) headed on their way again, crossing around the edge of what used to be Laketown, and then onto the shallow paths that would lead them back to the Mirkwood forest. Although Linnor knew that Legolas would most likely not be there, being off, as he said, to find an old friend of his, she was still nervous at the thought of passing through his home. And hers, she thought with s jolt. Her mother had been from here. Her aunt was here now, too.

"Great." She muttered. "Just great."

"Did you say something?" Bilbo asked, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She hadn't heard him approach her. Hobbits, with the added oddity of hair on their rather large feet, could be as silent as the ancient elves themselves when they chose to. Linnor blinked at the Hobbit in surprise and with a bit of guilt. Throughout this entire adventure, she had pretty much forgotten about Bilbo Baggins.

"Oh, um. I suppose I did." she fumbled.

"I get it." Bilbo said, no longer looking at her. If he had been, he would have seen the apparent shock that crossed her face, as well as the blatant disbelief. "I mean, you've gone through an awful lot. And no matter what, there are moments that the words don't reach. And you've gone through suffering too terrible to name. Sometimes it's easier to push away the unimaginable."

"How…do you know this?" Linnor said quietly. She wasn't sure if Gandalf was listening, but she wanted to keep up the pretense of privacy, even amongst the three of them.

"You forget, this was my first adventure, too." the halfling smiled. "I had never left the Shire before, and suddenly here I was, thrust into the wild, full of orcs and wargs and trolls and death and violence. It was…terrifying, and some nights I still dream of it. Nightmares, actually."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Linnor said awkwardly. She had traveled with him for months, fought with him, and she had no idea - no, she hadn't figured that even sweet, quiet Bilbo would have trouble adjusting to the reality of Middle Earth. Learning that evil was out there, and it would not hold back just because you were small, or female, in her case.

"Eh, it's okay. I mean, the world finds ways to sting you." Bilbo said, fingering the small dagger on his hip, a talisman from his journey. "But I've learned that every once in a while, it will decide to bring you something to believe in, for even a night. And sometimes, that's all you need."

Linnor smiled at her small friend. He had certainly changed from the halfling she remembered from Rivendell, when they had both barely begun the journey and neither of them knowing what would be in store for them.

"When did you get so wise, Bilbo Baggins?"

"I've had plenty of time to think and bemoan my fate along this quest." Bilbo smirked. "And I think I could rival Old Gaffer Gamgee himself with what I've learned."

"Oh, is that so, Master Baggins?" Gandalf hummed to himself from up ahead, though Linnor could see a smile peeking out from his array of greying whiskers as he turned to face them. "It would certainly bring some enjoyment to this dull stroll if you would enlighten us to the lessons learned on your unexpected journey."

He said it with a clearly friendly and joking tone, but even so, Bilbo bristled and rose to his entire height (which meant he barely came up to Linnor's nose). Almost with a definite purpose, Bilbo marched along until he was striding right beside Gandalf and now Linnor hurried herself to catch up.

"I've learned that it will always be the darkest right before the dawn." Bilbo spoke, and Linnor remembered a story he had once told her, of something that had happened right before they came to Imladris. _Trolls._ 'I've learned that liars can be honest, and sometimes right could be wrong." Linnor wasn't sure what he could be talking about her now, but apparently Gandalf did, for he chuckled heartily and nodded in approval.

" , that is true." the wizard affirmed. At Linnor's confused glances, he clarified. "I believe Mr. Baggins is referring to the actions in Laketown. Doing the right thing at the moment can be the wrong decision in hindsight. And as for the liars…" Gandalf sighed. "Well, aren't we all?"

"As I was saying," Bilbo cleared his throat, obviously trying to ward off any tangents. "I've leaden that you have to stand up before you fall down. Sometimes, you need to be lost before you get found. I learned…that we're never going to know it all." Bilbo finished, and that statement alone quieted Linnor and Gandalf. They walked along in silence for a long time, just listening to the melody of the crickets and the wind and the sparrows flitting above their heads.

 _"_ _It's funny how the walk of life_

 _Can take you down without a fight_

 _So many years can leave behind_

 _Regretfully until it's time_

 _To realize the moment_

 _When you turn around_

 _I'm coming home_

 _To breathe again_

 _To start again_

 _I'm coming home_

 _From all the places I have been_

 _With nothing but a voice within_

 _That calls me_

 _Calls me home"_

The song seemed to breathe out of her, the lyrics light and watery, like a reflection in a pool of water. Neither of her companions looked at her, but she could feel them relax beside her, as if her words were soothing some tension within them. It was soothing her.

 _"_ _In the quiet moment_

 _When the earth holds still_

 _I'm coming home_

 _To breathe again_

 _To start again_

 _I'm coming home_

 _From all the places I have been_

 _With nothing but a voice within_

 _That calls me…"_

"Linnor?"

"Yes, Master Bilbo?"

"Where is it that you are going?"

"I do not know yet."

* * *

It was night again, and Linnor lay on her back, staring at the sky. Gandalf and Bilbo had been asleep now for a while, once again leaving her alone with her thoughts. The night sky was clear, the stars above her head bright and flawless, like diamonds. They reminded her of the stars she and Legolas gazed at that first night in Mirkwood, when he had taken her to the balcony of his palace.

 _"_ _I counted the stars tonight_

 _Oh how they shine so bright_

 _I gather them all_

 _So they perfectly align_

 _While we gaze from far away_

 _And separately watch the day_

 _Come rising across the horizon in our minds"_

Linnor wondered if he was watching the night sky, watching the stars, remembering those nights they had shared, the hearts they had given.

"And I know my heart is strong." Linnor whispered to the night. "Where you belong, is by my side. So you will hold, but in your should I'm standing by." One day they would be together again. One day. But Linnor knew that it would not be any day soon. "I know they say that all good things must come to some kind of ending. And we were so good, Legolas. We never stood a chance, did we?" She sighed. "I just hope you know that….I'm thinking of you."

As she closed her eyes, a breeze picked up. It wasn't a normal breeze, for it reached down and seemed to warp around her, carrying a voice that settled into her dreams as she faded away.

 _Wherever I go, wherever I'll be. I just hope that you're thinking about me and that you don't doubt my love or feel lonely. Wherever you go, whatever you see, just know you're not alone. You never will be. Wherever you go, that's where I'll be._

 _I love you._

 **To be continued….**


	80. Chapter 80: Beginning of the End

**A/N: I lied - there's this chapter, then two more. Sorry, I had more in me than I thought. Also I suck at ending chapters lately, so apologies.**

 **Anyways, here are the next songs:**

Misguided Ghosts by Paramore

Blame It On Me by George Ezra

Sound of Silence by Disturbed

Journey to The Past from Anastasia

Christmas Lullaby from Songs For a New World

 **Once again, I'd like to stress that I do not own anything. Linnor is my own character, as well as Ciranel, but beyond that, all songs are credited to their respective artists, and everything related to Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien.**

 **Please keep reviewing.**

* * *

Gandalf had been right, of course. They were not traveling as long on the way back as it had when they had been coming here. The road to Erebor had been laden with secrets and enemies and fire and sickness and danger. There had been so much sadness and pain. But the way home was different - everything was out in the open now, and it was somehow lighter than those days when things seemed to be always hanging over their heads. Linnor felt like time was flying by them, and one morning, when they rose over a hill just to see more hills, all with green fields and pastures and tall hanging trees, Linnor saw just how much had really passed.

"Where are we?" she said, but in her heart she already knew the answer. She had known it juts from the look on Bilbo's face.

"This is the edge of Backwater." Bilbo exclaimed. "It's on the farther edge of Bree, which, technically speaking, is on the far edge of the Shire. The Shire. We're nearly there. I - I'm nearly home."

"How long?" Linnor asked her companions. She wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet, not after these last few weeks of traveling. She should have been preparing what to say, how to word what she was feeling, but she hadn't and now their time together was nearly up.

"Two days, at most." Gandalf assessed. "We should be there by midday on the third, I'd say. That is, if we stop and rest in the most unoccupied spots. It will take time to avoid some of the main streets."

"Why would we do that?" Bilbo said, looking at the wizard in astonishment. "The Green Dragon Inn in Bree is one of the finest establishments -" He cut off the Gandalf gave him a look that Linnor didn't fully understand. There was something in the depth of the wizard's eyes that scared her - it was dark and suspicious, and Bilbo seemed frozen. Almost against his will, the hobbit moved slowly, one of his hands touching his head and the other moving to his front coat pocket, two fingers reaching in and - what was in his pocket? But before Linnor could make sense of any of this, Gandalf blinked and looked away, seeming to release Bilbo from this spell. The hobbit shook his head and rolled his shoulders, both hands back at his sides.

"As I was saying, midday on the third morning." Gandalf said, and this time there was no argument. "Let us get Mr. Baggins home, shall we, Miss Linnor?"

"We shall." Linnor said quietly.

They walked the rest of the morning, stopping only when the sun was set high above them. They found a shady spot off to the side of the dirt road and sat there to eat some of their rations, which were still in good supply, though the bread was getting stale and the fruit and cheese, withering.

"So, Bilbo." Linnor finally broke the awkward silence that had been with them since earlier that morning. "What's waiting for you back home? Family? Friends? A girl?"

"Hardly." Bilbo laughed, but there was nothing behind it. Not really. "I have a nephew, on my brother's side, on my mother's side, really. But that's as much family as I have. And he lives over on the other side of the Hill with his parents, my brother and sister-in-law, Tooks. I see him every now and again, but he's hardly waiting for me. And as for friends…well, if any of them have stood by me while I've been gone, I will be greatly surprised."

"Hm." Gandalf made a sound, but when the two of them chanced a look his way, he seemed to be more interested in his staff than in their conversation. Linnor frowned but chose to ignore the older man's childish behavior. For now. Soon it would just be the two of them traveling together, and she could pry as much as she ever dared. There was something he wasn't telling her. Well, actually, they both were hiding something from her, something big. And while now wasn't the time to ask, Linnor had tucked that suspicion safely in the back of her mind for future use.

"What about you, Linnor?" Bilbo cleared his throat, clearly trying to move the focus off himself, Linnor was happy to oblige. "Any particular destination enter your mind yet, on the journey of yours?"

"You know," Linnor sighed, "I have been thinking. This is sort of like a journey into my past. I think. This is my chance to retrace the steps of my family - from Mirkwood and Rivendell and Erebor. I'll never get another chance."

"So, what, you're going to go back the way we came?" Bilbo asked. "Mirkwood and Rivendell -"

"Aren't the beginning." Linnor said. "My beginning lies in the Blue Mountains."

"Dis." Gandalf smiled, and Linnor knew he had been eavesdropping.

"Yes." Linnor said, and she smiled back. "So I will keep going ahead. One step at time, one hope and then another…who knows where the road will go? Eventually there, but I honestly don't know where "there" is. I just want to get back to who I was, and then on to find my future. There are things my heart still needs to know, and…" Linnor gave a huff of laughter. "I know it doesn't sound much like a plan. It's not. It's more of an idea, I think."

"That's where all plans start." The wizard nodded his head from under his wide brimmed hat. "At least, all the plans worth making."

Once they had refreshed themselves, and the sun had moved from directly above them, the three of them left once again, back onto the dirt roads and the side paths. Linnor had no idea where they were, but apparently Bilbo did because every now and then he would exclaim and tell her a story about so-and-so who lived there, or used to, and with a sort of fondness, he would retell his memories of the people he had left behind what seemed a lifetime ago. Eventually the sun started to set, and there was still not a real dwelling in sight.

"Backwater is mostly old farmland and pastures." Bilbo said. "About ten miles east are the residential areas, and by tomorrow we'll reach the outskirts of Bree. That's the town where everyone passes through. Men, Rangers, Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, they all travel through Bree at some time."

"Which is why we will do well to keep away from there." Gandalf said sharply. "The battle is barely over and done with. Word spreads fast…when it's for greed. When the word is peace….not so much."

* * *

They found a patch of grass, worn down further than the field around it, that was sheltered by a small crop of trees. Gandalf lit a fire, and like every night for the last seven weeks, Linnor and Bilbo settled down around it and unpacked their bedrolls. And once again, like every night before, the three of them fell into a semi-comfortable silence. As they sat and watched the flames grown and shrink and flicker, Linnor couldn't help but reflect on how she came to meet these two. How many times she had sang out to them, in anger and in sadness, when she was happy or confused. How this had become her life all because of a dream she once had when she stood on the balcony of her tower room all that time ago. The night seemed to press in closer around them, as if waiting for her to start something….or to finish.

 _"_ _Hello darkness, my old friend_

 _I've come to talk with you again._

 _Because a vision softly creeping_

 _Left it's seeds while I was sleeping_

 _And the vision that was planted in my brain_

 _Still remains_

 _Within the sound of silence"_

The song was well fitted to this moment. The words wrapped around the darkness and lingered in the light of the fire. Linnor had sung her verse. She hoped that maybe her two friends would remember the last time they sat around a fire, the last time a song was sung in the comfort of adventure and returning home.

 _"_ _In the naked light I saw_

 _Ten thousand people, maybe more_

 _People talking without_

 _People hearing without listening_

 _People writing songs that voices never share_

 _And no one dared_

 _Disturb the sound of silence."_

Bilbo's voice was soft, unused to any melody. At some point or other, Linnor knew that she had gotten the other members of the company to sing even the slightest verse of a song. But Bilbo hadn't really shared much of his musical ability. It was rough, but not bad. He would have had a nice voice with some practice. Even so, now, Linnor smiled at the halfling, despite his hesitance. Now all that was left was for Gandalf to take their lead. One last night….as old friends.

His voice was rough, gravelly and it held tremors that could only have come with age. Still, it wasn't an unpleasant sound.

 _"_ _Fools, said I, you do not know_

 _Silence like an illness grows_

 _Hear my words that I might teach you_

 _Take my arms that I might reach you_

 _But my words, like silent raindrops fell_

 _And echoed in the wells of silence."_

"I am so sorry." Gandalf whispered, barely a moment after his verse had ended.

"What are you sorry for, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked. Linnor, too, looked at him with her brow furrowed. She didn't think she had ever heard him apologize before. Not in the way he was about to.

"Ah, it was a grand idea, was it not?" the wizard in grey spoke as if remembering a fond memory. "We would head west and find ourselves some truth. I told Thorin, what are you waiting for? With him, and with the members we collected, I told them, helped them, count all the reasons, discard all the excuses that we made. I said, let's find ourselves some treasure and then they threw their lives away. I am the reason…."

"Gandalf, what are you talking about? None of this was your fault. You saved our lives countless times. We couldn't blame you-"

"Well, you are kind but sorely misguided." Gandalf snapped. "You should blame me. Blame it on me. I left you at the edge of Mirkwood with nothing more than, "I am going away for a while. But I'll be back, don't try to follow me. But I'll return as soon as possible." I left you just before you needed me most. Blame me, Linnor. Blame it all on me."

Linnor had never seen Gandalf look so despondent. It was unsettling, and unfounded. She had never thought she would have to console the ever standing wizard in grey, the great Gandalf. But it seems that consoling was just what he needed now.

"Gandalf, listen to me." Linnor spoke. Bilbo was still frozen in one spot, eyes wide. He was in no position to help her. It was on her to fix this, as much as she could. "I'll never have the power to control the land, or conquer half the world or claim the sun. I'll never be the kind who simply waves their hand and has a million people do the things I wish I'd done." she waited until the elder man was looking at her before she continued. "But the fact is, no one can. No one can control things like that. I could blame anyone for anything that happened, if I wanted to, for any of that.I could blame my mother. I have blamed her. I could blame my father, if I wanted to. I could find a reason. I could blame everyone, including myself, for everything I said, for who I am and what I've gone through. But Gandalf, I could never blame you. Do you know why?"

"Why is that, Linnor?"

"Because even though you've done…all that you say you've done, you've also saved our lives countless times. You've helped to stop the war. You've done great things, Gandalf. Maybe not the things you set out to do, but what you have accomplished is worth so much more. You've taught me that."

 **To be continued…**


	81. Chapter 81: The End

**A/N: Almost over. Wow, I cannot believe that just a year ago I was just starting this story, not knowing the response that I would get. Not knowing that you guys would be so supportive and so wonderful in the reviews you leave and the follows and favorites that mean the world to me.**

 **So enjoy this chapter, and the one after it. Thank you.**

 **The songs below are:**

Somebody by Lemonade Mouth

When I'm Gone by A Rocket To The Moon

New Soul by Yael Naim

 **And remember: I own nothing but Linnor.**

 **I hope you continue to review.**

* * *

They reached the edge of the Shire early that morning. Linnor could see the excitement nearly bursting from Bilbo at the seams. He had been gone from his home for a long time - much longer than Linnor could claim. He had had a life here: friends, family, walks into the market, a bed and a library and a kitchen with food. He could have gone to parties and gatherings, talked to neighbors, exchanged - well, whatever it was that friends and neighbors exchanged. Linnor wasn't an expert on these things.

It was perhaps a quarter after eleven when they stopped for one last rest. They had been walking since sunrise, at Bilbo's request. This would be their only stop until they reached the doorstep to Bag-End.

"How does it feel, Bilbo? Being so close to home?" Linnor asked, taking a bite of her apple.

"It feels…" Bilbo sighed and leaned bak on his hands, his pipe dangling from his bottom lip. "I feel…..I don't know. I don't know how I feel, really. Feels like a dream, like I'll wake up in a second and I'll be back in the mountain, or in the Misty Mountains, or back in Laketown. Anywhere but here. I guess I'm just…waiting for that to happen."

"After so long of things going wrong, the moment things go right it feels so wrong." Gandalf said in a wise voice. Linnor rolled her eyes and wagged her eyebrows at Bilbo, who snorted. Sometimes the wizard was just too…kooky. Even in his wise moments. Linnor felt a pang of loss. She was going to miss…this. The three of them. The last pieces of the wild and crazy and ultimately dangerous adventure that they had gone through and survived and now…it was ending. Everything was ending, or maybe it was a new beginning? But in any case, Linnor knew that it would soon be time to part ways, first with Bilbo, and then with Gandalf. And she would be alone, with only her memories and word as proof that everything that happened, happened. It wouldn't be the same.

"Hey." Bilbo came over to where she was sitting and nudged her with his shoulder. "You know, once this is…finished, this little interlude of sorts, you're free to do whatever you want. You know that, right?"

"Yes. I do." Linnor sighed. "But I still don't really know what. I mean, I'll head to the Blue Mountains. Try to find Dis, tell her everything. Hope that she understands. But then what? Where do I go? What do I do?"

"You told us that there are places you've always wanted to visit, yes?" Bilbo said. "So you're saying that you don't know what to do or where to go, but you do. You can't be afraid to let it show."

"Let what show?"

"Your excitement. The fact that you are letting go of everything that's holding back your dreams. The part of you that wants to come alive with adventure again. The part of you that wants to be somebody completely separate from kingdoms and lovers and all of that fairytale stuff."

Linnor thought about what he was saying. He was right. There was a part of her that wasn't sad how things were ending. That part of her was excited, eager - to see a part of the world that wasn't drenched in blood and pain and death. Middle Earth was huge, and there were so many towns, cities, realms that Linnor had only ever read about, dreamed about visiting. And now she had a chance to do that.

"You're right, Bilbo Baggins." Linnor grinned at him.

"Of course I am." Bilbo said, then blushed at the obvious, and unintentional, arrogance. "I -I mean -"

Linnor laughed and ruffled the curly mop of hair on her hobbit friend's head. It was nice to know that some things rally never changed.

* * *

They reached Bilbo's hobbit hole a few hours later. It took much longer than they anticipated because dozens of people had come outside to gawk at them. It seemed that everyone had truly thought that Bilbo had died, or at the very least, disappeared into the wild, never to return again. Linnor found herself a bit uncomfortable with all the staring, though she tried to focus on Bilbo and what he saying.

"And there goes my cousin Lobelia. No doubt she ransacked my house while I was gone. I knew I should have never made her that spare key. It's only for emergencies, but knowing Lobelia, that could mean that she's run out of tea spoons. She does have an affinity for swiping my silverwares. And there's Old Gamgee, the old bloke. Seems he's doing well now. He was sick when I left, and poor Samwise was up to doing all the Gaffer's tasks around the Shire here. Oh, and there's some of the Proudfoot cousins. And the Longhorns. We're all practically related one way or another, here, you know."

Bilbo's incessant chatter lasted all the way up until they reached his front door. It was a charming green with a yellow border. Linnor could tell that Bilbo had obviously taken great pride and care with his home. Everything was pristine and neat, the way hobbits preferred things. Except…

"What's this mark here?" Linnor leaned down and gently touched a deep groove set into the wood of the door. It was swirled and smooth, as if it had been worn down by time and weather.

"That?" Bilbo blinked rapidly then looked at Gandalf almost sternly. The wizard, though, only seemed vaguely amused. "Well, that is, um, well…."

"The reason Mr. Baggins came to have this unexpected journey." Gandalf finished.

"Well," Bilbo paused, then looked down at the mark again, this time with a hint of fondness, "well, yes. Yes, I do suppose it is."

Originally the plan was to spend some time with Bilbo in his home, get him unpacked and settled, have one last meal with whatever is left in his pantry. But standing there on his doorstep….Linnor had a feeling that if they went further inside, leaving would be that much harder. She had already had some hard goodbyes. If she could avoid this one, she would. So, before either her companions could begin, Linnor reached out and pulled Bilbo into a hug.

"It doesn't matter where I am going, or what I do. I won't forget you, Bilbo Baggins, and someday, one day, I will come back here to Bag End."

"Tea is at four." Bilbo chuckled sadly. "I know, Linnor. And you know, I do have this funny feeling that I'll being seeing you soon. Quite soon, really. Sooner than we both expect."

Linnro grinned at her tiny friend and hugged him again, letting that say more than any silly song possibly could. Finally she stepped back and Gandalf then took his time saying goodbye to the hobbit from the Shire.

"I do hope you won't forget everything that's happened, dear Bilbo." Gandalf said, leaning casually on his staff.

"I think I need to, for a while." Bilbo said softly. "Get myself back together again. Maybe not completely, but enough to get back into the swing of a normal life, you know? But one day, I will remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad, those who survived…and those who did not. Who knows? Maybe I'll write a book."

"And I," Linnor said, smiling, "for one, can't wait to read it." She looked up at Gandalf to see him doing the same, though there was something strained about it, as if his thoughts were not as pleasant and heartfelt as he wished them to be.

"You are a very fine fellow, Mr. Baggins." he said at last, "and I am very fond of you. But you are really just a little fellow, in a wide world."

* * *

Linnor stopped at the top of the hill, looking down at the sweeping fields and doors and homes of Hobbiton. Gandalf stood beside her, waiting. This was their last stop, Linnor knew. She would keep walking with Gandalf until they reached a fork in the road, one he knew was there. He would take the left, and she would take the right. And then…..

"What are you thinking about, my dear?" Gandalf asked. Linnor turned away from the sight of a quiet village and back to the sight of her weary traveling companion and the wild.

"This was never my world, you know." Linnor said. "My world was always the comfort of a place, the safety behind walls and the ignorance of everything except what I could grasp from the pages of books. I'm a new soul that came to this strange world, Gandalf, hoping that I cold learn about how to give and take."

"Give and take?"

"Give a little bit of myself to the world, and take back my life. Take a little bit of adventure and give a little bit of light."

"Ah. I see. And did you accomplish this?"

"Since I came here, out here, out of my tower and my palace and my safety, I've felt joy and fear and I've made very possible mistake and then some. I've changed my mind a thousand times and I've hurt the ones I love. I escaped a prison to find myself in another. I left a good, safe life in peace for one of turmoil and war.

 _See I'm a young soul in this very strange world_

 _Hoping I could learn a bit bout what is true and fake_

 _But why all this hate? Try to communicate_

 _Finding trust and love is not always easy to make."_

"As usual, you speak a grain of truth." Gandalf said, chuckling as he turned to walk.

"Only a grain?" Linnor huffed.

"Consider yourself lucky. Most people never even grasp that much in their entire lives." Gandalf eyed her conspiratorially and Linnor had to laugh again. Gandalf laughed, too, and they continued on their way for a while in a comfortable silence. Eventually, however, they came to where all heroes, and their stories did.

"The end." Linnor said, standing exactly at the fork in the small dirt road. It had came much sooner than she had expected, and now that she was here, she wasn't so sure.

"Think of it not as an ending, but perhaps a new beginning." Gandalf hushed her. Already he was standing on the left most path, and she, on the right. "We will see each other again someday. But you have your own story to tell, and for the moment, it will not include me."

"I will miss you, Gandalf the Grey." Linnor said, and she tried to smile, but the tears streaming down her cheeks turned it into a grimace as she tried to control her emotions.

"And I, you, Linnor Alea Sathren Durin." the wizard turned away from her for a moment, and then back, as if there was something he forgot to say.

"Gandalf?"

"You will be…." Gandalf swallowed, and then smiled, and this time, it actually reached his eyes. "You will be just fine."

And so went Gandalf down the left path, leaving Linnor standing at the start of the right. He was right. Linnor knew he was. She was going to be fine. She always was. The heartache and the pain and the fire had only made her stronger. She was a warrior, a princess, a dwarf and an elf. She was a singer and a sword fighter. Linnor was so many things. It was time she became an adventurer, too. This time, on her own adventure.

"It's not the end." Linnor told herself, and she took one step down the road. "It's just the beginning."

And with her pack on her shoulders, a hat on her head, and a feeling that something, she wasn't sure what, was waiting for her across miles and miles and miles wilderness, Linnor set off. And just like Gandalf said, she would be just fine.

After all, she was Durin's Daughter.

* * *

 **You would think this would be the end….and you'd be wrong.**

 **To be continued….**


	82. Chapter 82: Epilogue

**A/N: Here we are. I told you everything would be resolved.**

 **Thanks again to everyone who has followed this story from the very beginning. You are so loyal to me, to this world, to the story….to being a fan of something so much bigger than us all. I can relate, and I hope you check out some of my other stories as well. I promise, no more singing!**

 **The last songs are:**

Into The West by Annie Lennox

Call It All Home by A Rocket To The Moon

Light The Sky by Grace Vanderwaal

 **Please review. And thank you all so much!**

* * *

 _80 Years Later…._

This had been a long time coming. Legolas stood on the bow of a small grey ship at the edge of the sea, a place that had called to his heart ever since that day, twenty years ago, when he had crossed by it, heard the crying of the gulls, and ignored them. He had stayed to protect his friend and king, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Gondor needed to be reclaimed, a war was being fought, Frodo needed time to reach Mordor. There were a thousand reasons Legolas chose to stay. He promised Aragorn his allegiance, he and Arwen would settle colonies for their people who remained behind in Gondor, Imladris and Ithilien, and no matter what he said to the contrary, Legolas had actually grown fond of Gimli. But there was another reason he stayed in Middle Earth. Another reason he stayed while his father took their people over to the Grey Land nearly twenty years ago. So many people gone….Galadriel, Thranduil, Elrond, Gandalf, Bilbo, Frodo…his old friends, gone. And even Aragorn was aging into the beyond.

It had been long since the return of the king. Twenty years since the end of the Ring, and nearly eighty years since the end of the Battle of the Five Armies, the one that bloodied the ground of the Lonely Mountain forever. Eighty years since he last saw his one true love - Linnor Alea Sathren Durin.

Legolas sighed and started pacing the length of his boat while he waited for the others. He was leaving now to follow in their footsteps. Pippin and Merry were both bordering on passing, and with Arwen mortal and the sea longing pulling painfully on his heart and mind, Legolas knew it was due time to make an exit. And he would, with his dearest friend in tow. Gimli, son of Gloin, had well earned the right to travel into the west with him. There were a few others, of course, some elves that had requested passage on one of the last grey ships left in Middle Earth. he wasn't alone. Except….

He had searched everywhere after the war. Both of them, even though he had promised to let her go her own way. But Linnor had seemingly disappeared. He could follow where she had been, of course. Everywhere he went, he inquired about her - a princess, half dwarf and half elf and beautiful, she was always beautiful in his mind's eye - and everywhere he went, people would say they she had been there not too long ago but no more. Rohan, Gondor, Lothlorien….even amongst the Ents, she was heard of. But Legolas had no luck in catching a glimpse of the one who held his heart, even now. It had been eighty years since he had seen her, held her, kissed her, _loved her._

It was like the sea longing, but more powerful than the gull cries could ever be. This was painful, breaking him every moment of every day that he lost her to the wild. She had promised…he had promised….and now he was leaving.

"There you are, Legolas." Gimli's gruff voice came from behind him, and at the same time, beneath him. Legolas would always be fascinated with a dwarf's short stature. How someone could be so small yet so fierce and barbaric was beyond him - but then again, hadn't the world been saved by the smallest of things? In more ways then one. "You have started pacing again, lad. Something on your mind?"

"There is always something on my mind, dear friend." Legolas said.

"Ah yes, but in this case, I believe it has to do with that lass you've searching for nigh twenty years now. Am I right?"

"Hardly." Legolas laughed. "It's been more like eight years, Gimli. And she is the only thing that consumes my thoughts. I hear of her always, like a ghost or a whisper of some great magical being. She is as regarded as Lothlorien used to be. And while I can wander the very golden woods of Lothlorien, I can never find a single hair of my Linnor."

Gimli sighed and came to stand beside his longtime friend. He knew how much this girl meant to Legolas. Ever since he came to Rivendell sixty years ago to speak in Lord Elrond's council of the Ring, he had known that there was more to than what the elf prince would admit. During the time when the council was not in session, Legolas would wander and ask other members, either of the meeting or of the court, if they had even come across a young woman, as fair as an elf but as tall as a dwarf.

 _"_ _She's a princess. Princess of Erebor. I need to find her. If you could only tell me you know of her, where she might be…"_

Alas, he got what he asked for, mostly. This girl, this Linnor, had seemingly been everywhere. She had spent time in Erebor, certainly, as Gimli and his father could ascertain. She had passed through the Shire and Hobbiton frequently enough that even the little halflings knew of her. Rivendell had the honor of her visits now and again, and so had Rohan and Gondor. Gandalf mentioned that she came and chatted with him and Radagast sometimes as she passed on her way in the world. And when they went to Galadriel, she said that Linnor was no stranger to Lothlorien. She had been everywhere, and so had they these many years. But still, Legolas could not find her. And Gimli knew the loss of his lady love was tearing him apart.

"Lad, did you ever stop to think that maybe…she might have…"

"Might have what?" Legolas turned on his friend, and his eyes were bright with a fearful fury that Gimli hadn't seen in a very long time.

"It was a terrible war. Those were dark days, Legolas."

"And she's been through days like them before." Legolas said, remembering the fire, the screams of orcs and Eagles. "She's out there. Or she was."

"You think she might have left already." Gimli said.

"I used to think that I would find her before it came to this." Legolas confided. "That we would leave together, or at the very least, we'd say goodbye if it came down to leaving one of us behind. But I never thought she'd leave without me."

"I am sorry." Gimli said, reaching as high as he could to place his hand comfortingly on the elf. "I know how long you've searched for her. Every sign….every word….every whisper….every rumor. I know. But we have to leave now. Perhaps she is waiting on the other side."

"Or perhaps she waits for you to turn around."

Legolas and Gimli both turned in shock at the new voice that came from the dock where the ship rested. A figure draped in a white cloak stood there, a hood draped over their face, covering their features. But even with that, Legolas could see that the new stranger was a woman, a young one at that. Everything was hidden, even her hands. She stood still, and Legolas wondered how she could see them with that hood so low.

"Excuse me. What did you say?" Gimli said, eyeing this stranger with curiosity. Gimli, in his old age, had managed to tape off his constant suspicious and wariness of every person that crossed his path. Besides, he no longer constantly carried his ax, which had finally condemned itself to rust and time fifty years ago.

"Is this the ship leaving for the west?" the woman asked instead, and her voice was light.

"The last." Legolas said slowly. "May I ask who you are, My Lady?"

"You may." the white figure said, and there was a hint of amusement in her mysterious voice as she stepped aboard the vessel. "I'm not liable to answer that, yet. Ask another question, if you please."

"I don't like the sound of this, Legolas." Gimli whispered to him. "She could be a spy."

"She couldn't be." Legolas whispered back. "There haven't been any spies for decades, and anybody worth spying for would be dead or on our side of things. And spying on a vessel leaving for the Grey Lands? Foolish. No one who leaves for that light land in the west has ever returned. So a spy would be useless."

The Lady in White laughed, and as she moved, Legolas caught a glimpse of a dark strand of hair from beneath the hood. It was long and braided, with a few bright beads interwoven in the ends. The beads were unfamiliar to him by design - yet the gold and emerald hue of them reminded him of something that had long gone hazy in his ancient memory.

"Where are you from?" Legolas said.

"A better question." she said. "Though an even better one might be, where have I been. I am not really from anyplace, but I have been almost every place. There's a town near the Lonely Mountain where I keep my friends around. I made my way to Ered Luin and in Mirkwood, my family I found. And out in Lothlorien my days were spent in gold. I've been all over this Earth, and back again, and I've learned how small the world really is and we call it all home. The good, the long, and the dark."

"I do not like the way she speaks." Gimli growled, and though Legolas knew that his cataracts would prevent him from truly attacking, Gimli was still a hell of a fighter if it came down to defending themselves, and this ship. But Legolas, while flattered at his friend's defiance, wasn't as convinced.

"There is something familiar of her. I can feel it." he said to his old friend.

"I would hope so."

And then this stranger, this mystery dressed in the purest white, lifted her head, the hood falling back from her face, and Legolas was looking into the eyes of his true love for the first time in eighty years.

"Linnor."

She smiled, and lowered her hood completely from her face. Legolas couldn't believe his eyes. She had become a true beauty, looking more elvish than she had when they met in the woods all that time ago. Her hair was long, braided far down her back, with beads of many colors interwoven in the strands. Her face had filled out, leaving her cheekbones well defined, her lips full, and her eyes wide and dark. And though the cloak was draped loosely over her frame, Legolas could see that she had settled into a stature similar to a dwarf's….yet it was slender and curved and he longed to trail his hands down her bodice again, feel her hips underneath his fingers.

She was his, and not his. She resembled his Linnor as one would in a dream - a little out of focus. Legolas gaped at her, and he knew he looked like a fool, but he couldn't help himself. After eighty years of searching, she was finally in front of him. Gimli, too, was silent.

"Hello, Legolas. Do you remember me?" her voice was like pure music, each sound a new note that the angels could not even have dreamed of.

"Remember you?" Legolas took a tentative step towards her. "You have been the only thing I've thought about since we parted ways nearly a century ago. The only thing to occupy my dreams, my waking thoughts, every second of my life I've been thinking of you, your face, the way you felt in my touch….I've spent so long looking for you, and you ask me if I remember you? I am insulted, really and truly, Lady Linnor."

"That's what I wanted to hear." she said, and suddenly, she was kissing him. A wash of memories assaulted him, and he was holding her against him, feeling the fabric of her clothing, the curves of her hips. He ran one hand through her braided hair, their lips moving over each other in perfect harmony. Legolas hadn't truly known how much he had missed her until this very moment.

An awkward cough came from behind them, and Legolas released her enough for him to turn his head to see Gimli shuffling his feet and looking anywhere but at the couple. Legolas laughed and turned to his friend, keeping one arm around his love's waist.

"Sorry, my Gimli. This is -"

"I figured that out on my own." Gimli groused. "You two are a couple of starstruck fools."

"Stars, they have nothing on us." Linnor hummed.

"Linnor…" Legolas sighed, momentarily ignoring Gimli. "Where have you been? I looked everywhere….for eighty years. You could have been dead for all I knew -"

"But I'm not. I'm right here." Linnor placed her hand on his cheek. "And I'm sorry that our separation was longer than anticipated. I went to the Blue Mountains first, met my aunt there. I spent a few years with her, and I traveled with her and the others from Ered Luin back to Erebor and then I stayed there again for a month or two, to get them settled in and all. I left, this time going to all the places I always wanted. I traveled to Rohan and learned about their horses. I visited Gondor, though back then it wasn't much to be admired. Now, King Aragorn is changing the tide and as are you with Ithillien. I went to the Shire, and Bilbo spent months showing me around, letting me visit with all his old friends and cousins and his nephew, Frodo, was absolutely adorable, and his friends, Sam and Pippin and Merry. I heard they played a part in that war, as well."

"Yes. They did." Legolas remembered fondly. Those halflings were small and mighty.

"I traveled the world, but the place I stayed in for years was Lothlorien."

"How long?"

"Sixty years." Linnor said softly. "I was there when you and your company came through."

"You were?" Gimli exclaimed, startling both of them. 'Then why in blazes didn't you come out and save us all a lot of annoyances? This lad would not stop talking about you for years! Talking about your eyes and your voice and -"

"Yes, thank you Gimli." Legolas gave him a stern glare.

"I thought about coming out. Saying hello to you all, meeting those Men, who were the only ones I actually didn't know at the time." Linnor said. "But I was on my own journey, and you were on one of your own. I'd only be a distraction. And that was the last thing you needed."

 _"_ _The stars are dull when they're compared to you and I_

 _And if people don't like it then they can close their eyes_

 _Cause we're not the same and we don't have to try_

 _We're brighter than fireflies_

 _We're gonna light the sky"_

"What?" Linnor giggled, looking at him in wonder.

"Stars. Seems to be our metaphor." Legolas smiled, hoping she would pick up where he left off. He had missed her voice. He had missed her.

 _"_ _You and me, we stand out of the crowd_

 _Cause we're not afraid to let our light out_

 _So trust in me and just have no doubt_

 _Cause we will be tearing through the clouds"_

"I've missed you so much." Legolas said, and the damp coolness on his cheeks alerted him to the fact that he was crying shamelessly. He leaned in a kissed her hard, the idea that her voice, the purity of Linnor, could be transferred to him, so if he ever lost her again there would something of her to keep with him.

"I've missed you too." Linnor said once they broke away. "Every day."

"I miss actually getting ready to leave this sorry plane behind us." Gimli grumbled and Legolas burst into another happy peal of laughter.

"Fair enough, Gimli. We shall be off." Legolas said. His heart had never before felt this light. He had his heart's love, he had his great friend, and he was leaving Middle Earth with no regrets, no unfinished business. He was off to the west.

Within a few minutes, the small grey ship was off on the water, leaving the last shores behind them. Gimli stood on the bow, standing as tall as he was able. Linnor and Legolas stood in the center of the ship, holding onto each other. Legolas suspected it would be some time before either of them would let the other go. He knew he certainly was not comfortable to let her out of sight yet. She had been for eighty years. That was long enough.

"So," Legolas said after a while, "did you find what you were looking for out there on your own?"

The sun was setting, the edges of the light just touching the horizon, making the water fade from blue to a startlingly vibrant fire orange-green. It was beautiful, and several gulls flew overhead, cawing their hellos and goodbyes and well-wishes to the three content travelers on the ocean waves. Legolas looked at Linnor, watching the sun paint lines and shadows on her flawless face.

"I found my happy ending." she said at last, and when she faced him, Legolas could see the depth of her words, her heart, reflected in her eyes. "I found you again. That's all I will ever need."

 _Lay down_

 _Your sweet and weary head_

 _The night is falling_

 _You have come to journey's end_

 _Sleep now_

 _And dream of the ones who came before_

 _They are calling_

 _From across the distant shore_

 _Why do you weep?_

 _What are these tears upon your face?_

 _Soon you will see_

 _All of your fears will pass away_

 _Safe in my arms_

 _You're only sleeping_

 _What can you see_

 _On the horizon?_

 _Why do the white gulls call?_

 _Across the sea_

 _A pale moon rises_

 _The ships have come to carry you home_

 _And all will turn_

 _To silver glass_

 _A light on the water_

 _All Souls pass_

 _Hope fades_

 _Into the world of night_

 _Through shadows falling_

 _Out of memory and time_

 _Don't say_

 _We have come now to the end_

 _White shores are calling_

 _You and I will meet again_

 _And you'll be here in my arms_

 _Just sleeping_

 _And all will turn_

 _To silver glass_

 _A light on the water_

 _Grey ships pass_

 _Into the West_

* * *

 **The End**


End file.
